Toying With The Devil
by Lady Leizel
Summary: When a strange girl gets thrown into Knives' mix of troubles, how will his growing feelings for her affect his plans and his future? Not a self-insertion!
1. A Rough Beginning

Disclaimer: Why is it we have to point out we don't own Trigun when we obviously don't? Oh well, someday I might own Trigun, but not today...

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READ THIS FIRST- Hello! Firstly, I have decided to re-write this, as my writing style has changed considerably since the beginning of this story, and the text and style of writing found in the most recent chapters doesn't fit with the text in the majority of the chapters, and it's been bothering me a lot. The older chapters (such as this one) will be updated at random because I'm also still working on the new chapters. So if all of a sudden the writing style changes, then that's the reason for it. Gomen nasai for understanding ^^

But on to the fic….This is an after-anime story, and, obviously, if focused on the anime (due to the fact it's easier to draw upon than the manga) But I'm trying to incorporate a more manga-ish feel to it as I didn't feel Knives was portrayed very well in the anime (ie: not quite so much the heartless psychopath he is made out to be in the anime, he does have reasons and feelings) But I've prattled on far too long; on with the fic!! 

Chapter One: A Rough Beginning

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Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,   
and hidden in the public eye.   
Such a stellar monument to loneliness. 

Dashboard Confessional- The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

The light of the multiple screens displayed before him shone in Millions Knives' eyes as he sat in the monitor room of his ship quietly surveying the barren land that the multiple screens displayed. It was quite boring, really. Nothing to do and no one to kill. Sighing, he formed a pillow for his head with intertwining fingers and gazed still out at the sand. Life was a bore again. Reflecting on his lifetime, he concluded that he had spent so much time focusing on his genocide of the spiders and making Vash suffer for turning against him that he had focused on naught else. A painful thought echoed hollowly and angrily in his head: his brother, blood and kin, had turned against him and was still out there living and protecting the lives of the worthless vermin. Why? He had always wondered. He knew that Vash was somewhat thickheaded, but to actually feel feelings towards _humans_? Of all the possible creatures on Gunsmoke, Vash had to choose to feel towards the very vermin that would kill him. 

He would rather Vash love a Thomas than a human. He would rather Vash love _him_ than anyone else on the planet. How had all this come to be? He wondered, rising from the chair in a swift effortless motion, and moving to the small window in the room; gazing listlessly out at the swirling sand. A frown creased his prominent brow as he wondered what he had done to push Vash so far away from him. For the humans were the source of their race's problems; leeching the life from their sisters and stealing their very life as they lay helpless in the bulbs, and he was only trying to protect Vash from infecting him with their foolish ideals and ignorance such ad Rem had done.

Rem.... how he hated her. Though she was dead she seemed to haunt him in his dreams, telling him that he had foolishly pushed his only family away form him forever. He knew he should ignore her; for she was a mere statistic now; dead ages long past yet still fresh enough in his memory to conjure herself up in his dreams; when he was unable to defend himself from her persistence. He saw her as the source of all his problems; it was her fault the humans had survived the crash, and it was her stupid ideals that had caused his brother to pull away from him like he did. It was because Vash thought he killed Rem that he wouldn't see the truth. Yet, he concluded bitterly, he was falsely accused of the crime, as Rem had made her own choice and had chosen to embrace death rather than watch the rest of her disgusting species plummet unceremoniously to the planet below. Humans were so complicated, he huffed angrily. They were so complicated and self-absorbed that they couldn't keep their own problems to themselves and instead opted to burden others with the consequences of their actions, such as Rem had done. He sighed angrily at the sand outside for not entertaining him. Everything had been so placid since his return to his ship. 'Twas true, he had taken great joy in irking Vash and the useless women that hung about him night and day like watchful birds, but he had been disgusted by their mere presence, and refused to stay and live with his brother and his woman Meryl. He had promised his brother that he wouldn't cause him any trouble while the women were alive; that he would give his brother that, at least: a peaceful life for a while. Yet there was nothing to do now, he had found. He had taken up cooking to pass the time, but had easily mastered that meager housewife's art within a matter of days and a few flattened soufflés later. Yet here he sat again, with nothing to do, no one to preside over, and- more importantly- no one to kill. He wished fervently that Legato were here to take his aggressions out on. The spineless vermin had adored him- perhaps even loved him- and had always been more than willing to be beaten into the sandy earth again and again until the sand was stained with his filthy, unclean blood at his master's will. He had always been able to freely take out his aggressions on Legato, and that stupid piece of filth would come crawling back on hands and knees, wanting more. He had been a good and loyal pet to him, and Knives touched often upon the thought of his departed servant. Yet Legato had provided him with a double-edged sword when he died: he had served his purpose by making Vash betray his vow, yet had left him alone with none to serve him and release his anger upon. He pounded and angry fist against the wall, he needed to release his anger somehow. He needed to kill 

Struck by this revelation, he moved quickly to the monitors and brought up a map of the surrounding area. His eyes scanned the screen until he found a relatively small town less than ten iles away. His lips peeled back in a smile; he would creep into their town and silently kill someone in the street with his Blades, striking them down and sending the surrounding people into a panic; unable to tell from where the blow came, who had done such a terrible thing, and weather it was a stranger or one of their own. He licked his lips at the prospect of finally shedding some blood after his long months of confinement, and shut off the screen before striding out the door and into the swirling sand. 

************************************************************************

The mid-afternoon sun beat down into Knives' eyes as he glanced up at the position of the twin balls of light moving slowly across the clear blue sky. He had been walking for nearly two hours and, although had calmed down considerably, had pushed aside his thoughts of returning to his ship, for he sensed that something unnatural was out here, amongst the dunes and sand, with him. The feeling had blossomed in his mind mere moments after exiting his ship, and had only increased since. Something unnatural; something strange; something alien had caught his attention, and he intended to find out what that something was. 

He had broken into a run at this, discarding his thoughts of bloodshed for this far more intriguing situation. He had been cooped up far too long, and, like any man in confinement, now strained for the unknown. He had become worried as he ran, as the mental signal, this cry, had reduced itself to a mere pinprick at the back of his mind that, causing only a small itch at the back of his eyes, as opposed to the near-migraine he had received because of it before. This worried him greatly; as, even now at it's weakest, all the minds of the spiders on his planet couldn't muster that kind of mental projection stability, and it intrigued him even more because of it. 

He knew not of what was broadcasting a mental message such as this; for the humans simply could not fathom-or harness- the ability to create a mental wave. Yet he knew that it could not be from this world. There was an unnatural feel to the signal; something alien to his world and alien to him. A stranger on my planet he growled as he crested a large dune that created the edge of a crater that sported at the top almost directly beneath his feet a shiny silver pod. 

It was an unusually small and circular pod, and seemed only to be able to fit no more than two people. The writing on the side was illegible, due to large burn marks were obviously the result of the ship entering the atmosphere. A large door hung ajar, revealing the dark and unlit interior, and for a moment he thought whoever owned it had wandered off into the rolling dunes of the desert. But the thought was quickly erased from his mind as his ears picked up a low moan escape from the inside of the pod. Someone was in there. His eyes widened in anticipation and he rushed so hastily down the edge of the crater that he nearly slipped upon the charred earth. He carefully placed a hand on the door, and the other on the hull of the sip, and pushed them apart. A hiss of steam escaped between the hinges as the two were separated, but nothing more. Knives then pulled violently on the door, ripping the hinges off and throwing it aside and pushing his head boldly into the smoky pod.

The inside was small and cramped, with computer paraphernalia lined the ceiling and walls. Nothing important lay in the controls, he could see that. Just a bunch of knobs and dials, very much like the idiot-proof computer systems that doted his planet. It was the figure in the seat next to the controls that caught Knives' attention.

A young woman, slumped unconsciously over her safety belt, sat in the padded chair. 

His first thought was to shoot her; to rid himself of any complications that might arise when she awakened and return to his ship to have her and her pod buried in the sand. And yet, something inside of him wished to seize this opportunity for potential excitement. The woman was, obviously, not of his world, and he craved to know by what means she had arrived, from where, and who this strange woman was to intrude onto his planet.

After a few minutes of quiet deliberation, Knives settled upon letting her live for a time. His confinement had quickly lost its luster and he had known nothing but dull, boring days since he had returned. Life had been an utter bore and here before him sat the answer to his boredom; if only for a time, he had decided as he had unbuckled her multiple safety straps and slung her heavy, limp form over his shoulder and started the long walk back to his ship. 

Things would be quite interesting when she awakened. ************************************************************************It was nearly nightfall when Knives reached his ship. He hadn't estimated the amount of time it would take him to return to the ship with an unconscious female slung over his shoulder. Then again, he reminded himself, he hadn't expected to find an unconscious female. In whichever case, he had made it his duty to find out what was going on, and to do that he had to take her somewhere safe. 

After much deliberation he settled upon lending her the room down the hall from his; due to the lock on the door and that there was naught in the room save a bed. Presumably, he thought, if he provided her with the bare necessities he could wring her spirit out like water from a damp cloth and therefore get what he wanted from her and be rid of her burden quickly.

When he entered the room with her limp body still in his arms, he felt the urge to drop her on the hard floor and leave her there for awhile. But something, he wasn't quite sure what, stopped him. So, begrudgingly, he pulled back the thin linen covers of the bed and placed her on the mattress. He then folded the blankets over her and exited. 

Knives walked down the hall to a supplies room. He entered, and a rather large room filled with ration bars and the like were shelved neatly before him. He strolled lazily to a shelf and chose from row upon row of ration bars. It took him a few minutes to decide which one to choose, but, he concluded, the woman would be out for a while anyway, so he could take his time. And besides which, even if she did wake up, a little while without food would only put him in a better position to manipulate her. When he was finished eating, he disposed of the wrappers and headed back. He had taken his time, and was gone more than forty-five minutes. If she wasn't awake by now, then he would make her wake up.

Upon entering the room, he found the girl sprawled on the bed, laying on her stomach, her head resting on her upper arms. Her glittering aqua eyes watched him carefully as he closed the door. Upon his doing this, she sat up. She did this slowly, with ease and seemingly without fear. This irritated Knives to the point where she could see it on his face. She sat cross-legged on the folded sheets of the bed, leaning against the wall, her hands folded neatly across her lap. 

This took Knives beyond the point of irritation. How dare she assume a casual posture in his presence! Didn't she know what- and who- he was? Couldn't she sense the air of superiority he was sure hung about him? He decided the niceties he had indulged her in earlier were wasted and obviously unappreciated. He decided then and there that he no longer wanted this annoyance, and decided to be direct and get the information he wanted before killing her. Planning humanity's defeat was much more fun and worthy of his time and talents than this piece of filth. So he decided to do what he always did in this sort of situation: simply take the information by force.

The girl sat impassively on the bed, her gaze never shifting, never wavering the tiniest bit. This male was certainly one-of-a-kind, she concluded. She had never encountered such an easily provoked and maltempered man such as he. And although she assumed she probably didn't look it, she knew exactly what he was going to do. Hah! She laughed quietly to herself, it was going to take more than a few petty tricks to outsmart her! 

Knives grinned maliciously as he extended his mental touch towards her mind. She could do nothing now. If she wasn't going to tell what he wanted to know, then he would simply take it from her. Yet something Knives could never have fathomed came to pass: He couldn't enter her mind. There was this thing, a _something_ that was guarding it. He could feel every groove of her mind, but couldn't enter it. Something was holding him back, something he could never have fathomed was blocking the way. It coated her mind like a mirror, rebounding every one of his attacks back on himself. If he threw mental energy at her, she would simply rebound it back at him, causing him more and more excruciating pain. 

He tried for several minutes to knock down this strange barrier, but to no avail. It wasn't going anywhere, which was for sure. But Knives had never dealt well with frustration, and finally wound up, as he always did when provoked, hurling all his energy at the mirror in a futile attempt to knock the barrier down. But even he could sense it; he had only made the tiniest of dents in her mental shield by throwing all of his energy at it. What the hell was she? 

She could feel the energy he threw at her, and could sense how hard it hit him when it rebounded off her shield. He was going to wind up killing himself if he kept this up. Then again, she thought to herself, why should she care? After all, he _was_ going to kill her once he got the information he wanted. He had made those intentions clear. When he had entered the room, the air of confidence was so thick she had almost choked. There had been no doubt in his mind that he would leave the room with satisfactory information and a corpse on the floor. But she was a good-natured person, and didn't want a man as intriguing as this to die. At least, not yet anyway. Toying with him was simply too much fun.


	2. Threats and Introductions

Disclaimer: Who says I own Trigun? *slap* don't say such things!

*Alright, it's a little on the short side, but I didn't want to put too much in or else I'd give everything away.*

Chapter Two: Threats and Introductions

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I'm here now  
Waiting  
Holding on to reasons  
Wasted  
I faced it  
Watching you deny me   
Vertical Horizon- You Say

Knives' female captive stared impassively at him with her large, aqua eyes as he drew in a shuddering breath. He had depleted too much of his energy, and he was finally coming to terms with that fact. This was enraging him even more. He couldn't stand that she had outwitted him more than anyone he had ever known in less than ten minutes. But Knives wasn't going to give up, so he hurled another, if not somewhat pathetic, attempt to break the barrier. The fact that he had no access to her mind made his desire to get in grow; not only to finally receive the information he felt he deserved to know, but mostly to feel the smug satisfactory feeling that he had grown so fond of when he won. 

But what irritated Knives beyond anything else, was the fact that this stupid piece of filth before him didn't seem to fear him. How could she not? He was the most powerful being on the planet. He had orchestrated the destruction of two of the major cities, killed countless humans, and had tried to destroy humanity before his second birthday. And she couldn't comprehend that he wasn't a man to make angry. She just sat there, effortlessly rebounded all of his attacks with that strange mirror-thing she had, and seemed all the while completely oblivious to the fact that she was sitting across the room from the most dangerous, volatile, and pissed off man on the whole planet. If she did anything else, he was going to loose it. And then she said it: 

"Are you done yet?" she asked, obviously having grown tired of waiting for him to say something to her. She had gathered that it wasn't going to happen any time soon. If she wanted to find anything out, she would have to ask. And it was a completely sincere question on her part, and she in no way had intended for him to grow so agitated towards her as he did. But she watched as veins pulsed in his forehead and he began to shake with rage that she was sure he was fighting to the extent of his limits to contain. It made her laugh.

And as soon as the first giggle escaped her throat, Knives had his hands around it.

"Listen to me, you disgusting piece of filth." Knives hissed, bringing his face close to hers, his eyes glowing with the inhuman light that so often clouded them "the only reason I didn't kill you the moment I laid eyes on you was that you came here in a spaceship, and I want to know how. You will do as I tell you or you will die. If you give me the information I desire, I may not kill you slowly. If you disobey me, mark my words vermin, you won't live to see tomorrow." his eyes bored into hers, the anger and lack of sanity evident within his fiercely glowing eyes. 

"Alright, you've made your point." the girl wheezed, her voice thin and hoarse without the proper amount of oxygen to supply herself with "I'll tell you how I got here." Knives' eyes lost their ferocity and his lips pulled back from his teeth in a satisfactory grin. He released his grip on her throat and backed away before she had a chance to react to the flow of oxygen that had resumed in her lungs.

The girl blinked for a few minutes, trying to regain her breath. She leaned over and closed her eyes, breathing deeply; enjoying the feeling of air in her lungs. She knew he was serious when he threatened to kill her. No one in their right mind jokes about that sort of thing. Then again, she was beginning to wonder about his mental capacity. But now wasn't the time to worry about how psychotic this strange man was; she was far too intrigued by his aggressive demeanor to allow him to dismiss her in a manner such as this. 

"My name is Rhianne" she stated, extending out a slender hand towards him 


	3. Questions That Get Nowhere

Disclaimer: No Trigun for poor me...

Chapter Three: Questions That Get Nowhere 

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As the sun shines through it pushes away and pushes ahead   
It fills the warmth of blue and leaves a chill instead and   
I didn't know that I could be so blind to all that is so real   
But as illusion dies I see there is so much to be revealed 

Vanessa Carlton- Twilight

Knives sneered at her hand as though it were covered in filth. She should at least have the brain capacity to know that she wasn't permitted to touch him. But, when she reached out to place his hand in hers, he recoiled as though she had the plague. The caused Rhianne to sigh; getting to him was going to be harder than she had originally thought. 

"Look, you don't have to shake my hand if you don't want to, but at least tell me your name." she sighed, exasperation clear in her tone. 

"Who I am is none of your concern, vermin." he snarled, obviously still furious and drained of much of his energy.

She leaned back on the wall again and sighed again, loudly and trying to show how stubborn he was being. He was by far the most conceited and arrogant man she had ever met; his air of superiority seemed to ooze from his very pores. Rhianne didn't shift her gaze from him, and decided not to bother psychoanalyzing him now. She had more important things to occupy herself with. Her captor was leaning against the opposite wall, eyeing her, watching her as she processed his figure through her mind. 

Her eyes took in his hair, a pale, near-platinum blonde that shone brilliantly under the fluorescent lights. His eyes, as blue and clear as polar ice, peered out from beneath a high, scowling forehead. His lips, although nicely set and the softest shade of pink against his pale skin, were pulled tightly together in a grimace of discomfort. His muscular arms were folded across his equally well-toned chest in a sign of displeasure. He wore a white bodysuit that fit his form rather well, though it made the woman snicker inwardly at it. He was a handsome man, she concluded with a sly smile. 

What she hadn't realized while studying her captor was that Knives had taken it upon himself to examine her as well, hoping to learn from her outward appearance any clue as to how to manipulate her more efficiently. Her hair framed her head nicely, side-swept bangs fell over her forehead and almost into her shining aqua eyes. Framed by her chestnut hair, pulled back into a leisurely ponytail at the nape of her neck, her eyes stood out like emeralds upon white silk. Her small ears were doted with three piercing each, a large silver hoop in the central lobe, small blue gemstones he recognized as emeralds above them, and small and slender coils of white gold that wound up through the skin through three other piercings. Her torso bore a red maroon suit that covered her from the shoulders into her boots, winding around rings on her middle fingers, while her throat was clothed in a cream turtleneck that lay underneath the suit. Upon her feet were combat boots; their rugged spiked along the bottom caked in dirt and sand. He could see nothing to indicate any sign of weakness, which frustrated him. One could tell by Vash's eyes that he was a gentle soul; one could tell by Legato's dark gaze that he was the heartless killer Knives had taught him to be; Zazie's had been blank and vacant, the sign of being inhabited by something other than his own soul. Her eyes were somewhat like that; vacant with the barest of emotion. Yet there was nothing unnatural about her gaze that could hint at something inhabiting her; this was a trained gaze, something she was forcing herself to do. Damn her. 

"Look, will you please tell me who you are?" she asked again, interrupting his thoughts "You saved me, and I have a right to know the name of my rescuer." she smiled a little, perhaps seeing something in Knives' expression that he didn't know was there. "And besides, I don't like the feeling of talking to a complete stranger. Even though you've been in here for at least a half-hour, I still don't know your name. Tell me and I'll give you any information you want to know. Please?" She asked, her tone bordering on pleading.

"Knives." He grunted, almost without knowing it and with little hesitation. He blinked stupidly for a moment, trying to grasp the idea that he had just given information about himself to the vermin. He realized she was learning. Something in that thought alone was enough to make him uneasy; but what made him angry both at himself and at her, was that she had been able to manipulate_ him_. That thought didn't appeal to Knives, and he shuddered inwardly; it had taken her very little time to realize what he wanted and expected from people, and she had been able to use that against him. She had been able to retrieve information from him without his consent, and without his being aware of it. Damn her. She was capable realizing things quicker, and putting them to effective use more efficiently, than anyone Knives had ever encountered. She was quick, this one, and he would have to be on guard if he wished to keep information about himself (or anything else that didn't concern her) beyond her reach.

Bah, what did it matter now? Knives mulled, his name possessed nothing of major importance. At least, he would have liked to have thought so. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had given her a part of himself. She now had information he had been reluctant to give, and knew something about him. By revealing his name to her, she now knew a little about him, and therefore had purposely created a connection between them. That thought in itself was enough to make Knives feel ill. A connection with a lower life form thoroughly disgusted him. Perhaps she was doing this to gain influence over him? By creating a connection between them, did she hope to manipulate him, he wondered.

"Don't worry Knives, I'm not going to kill you or anything" she stated, oblivious to the fact that he wanted nothing more than for her to shut her mouth and I certainly don't want to make you angry again, but I can't tell you anything if you don't calm down, you're so jittery, you look like you're going to jump out of your skin." She laughed again, and could see that Knives was beginning to dislike her persistent giggling That thought brought more laughs to her mouth and they tumbled out incessantly. And as they did, Rhianne could see what Knives had regained of his patience begin to slip away. So she cut her laughter off, and motioned to the bed again, her hand quivering slightly with her bottled laughter. 

"I'll stay here." he spat and she decided to let it drop. She leaned back on the wall again, resting her head in her hands. 

"Alright then Knives, where were we?" 

Knives paused for a moment, trying to hold in his annoyance at her constant use of his name. Each time she uttered the one-syllable word, she added to the bond between them. And each time she did, he felt like backhanding her into the wall. But he knew that he was in no shape to move. He had depleted almost every ounce of his mental ability at her, and had saved very little to help him function properly. Dashing to the bed and back had been surprisingly tiring. And he had good reason to believe that if the girl was suicidal enough to try to move him from his resting position on the wall, he would simply topple to the floor like a pile of bricks. 

Quickly recuperating bricks, Knives reminded himself smugly. He reasoned that if she answered his questions, he would have regained enough strength to kill her easily without straining himself in the process. 

"Where are you from and how did you manage to get to my planet without my noticing?" he spat, almost snarling at the woman before him. She inhaled a deep breath "my planet is over one hundred and twenty years away, and I came here because-"

"Liar" Knives spat. She looked up from her hands, which she had been examining with fervor, not wanting to look him in the eye "what? What did you say?" she asked warily, as though not sure of what she had heard. Her face took on a ferocious look, and Knives thought that she might leap from the bed and tear out his throat with her nails. Yet her face held that look for only a moment before it collapsed and she sighed, albeit angrily. 

"You know what? I don't care what you call me right now, because I'm getting tired, can we talk tomorrow?" she asked, rubbing her eyes to emphasize her exhaustion. Knives sighed and looked out the little window in the room. The sky was littered with stars, and he could see two of the moons already making their way across the sky. As much as he hated to admit it, the vermin was right; it was getting late, and he was tired as well. That surprised Knives, as he had always considered himself to have more endurance than that. Perhaps, he thought, it was that he depleted most of his energy towards the vermin, and now he was paying the price. But he wasn't going to give her what she wanted without a bit of a battle first

"But why, vermin? You seem so full of energy, and the night is young. Answer my question" he crooned, his voice hitting a tone that made the sarcastic demeanor of his remark nearly waspish. 

"Look Knives, I've had a tough day, and I always know that sleep makes me feel a whole lot better about everything. So let me get some sleep, and then we can talk tomorrow, alright? Then I'll tell you whatever you want." She asked, an almost pleading tone creeping into her voice. 

Knives snorted angrily. He despised... no, despised was too weak a word, _hated_ the thought of giving in to the desires of lesser life forms. Why should a superior being change its plans to conform to those of weaker beings? It made no sense. To Knives, it just seemed like a big waste of time. What good would come of it anyway? He would give in, she would win this battle, and it would take longer to retrieve what he wanted to know. And that meant pandering to the desires of a needy human. He sighed loudly, watching the girl's eyelids droop heavily. She was obviously tired, that anyone could see. Perhaps if she lacked in sleep the vermin would be more susceptible to his demands and would be dead before midnight. Knives toyed with that pleasant thought for a moment, liking the idea of being rid of the annoyance that had so rudely interrupted his solitude. But it didn't stay for long. She obviously possessed some mental abilities that he had never discovered, and he meant to make good use of this vermin before her welcome expired. 

But what to do about sleep? Knives certainly wasn't going to admit that he was tired to a lower life form, so that nearly put it out of the question. Then he encountered a surprisingly simple and yet ultimately effective plan: he would pretend to befriend the vermin. The notion crept through his mind as he chewed the thought slowly, weighing his potions against one another. If he chose to let her sleep, she would triumph over him; but if he denied her of it, he would collapse from lack of sleep as well. Damn it all to hell. But, he thought carefully, if he made it seem like he wanted to be her friend, she would probably be less reluctant to reveal her secrets and he would be left in his happy solitude once again. Knives sighed angrily; being nice to vermin disgusted him, but if all went smoothly, then he would ultimately win out in the end. He liked that thought very much. 

"Fine...." Knives paused for a moment, not sure if he could actually being himself to say her name "Rhianne. You may have your sleep. But first thing in the morning you will answer my questions, are we clear?" 

Rhianne nodded her head slightly. 

"But there is the small problem of clothing. I won't sleep in my uniform, it's against protocol, and disrespectful. May I borrow a shirt please?" she asked, her tone somewhat wary, but very needy at the same time. Knives snorted and she took it as the warning sign of another rage attack he was ready to unleash should she anger him any more. 

"Fine then, turn around please." She commanded. It was obvious that Knives wasn't going to leave the room, he had made it clear that he was too intrigued to give her the chance to escape; and besides which, asking him to do something he didn't want to do was like striking a match in a gas-filled room. Rhianne was actually quite surprised when Knives complied, turning his back to her. 

"Thank you" she said, and began to shed her somewhat dirty clothes. Folding them carefully she placed them under the bed and crawled into the bed, marveling at how warm the thin blankets were. 

"Okay." she stated, plunging her head and shoulders under the sheets as she heard Knives turn around.

Knives, who had been staring at the wall without much interest, had allowed his mind to wander while the girl undressed. He could hear her movements, and wondered why he had allowed her the privilege of sleep in the first place. He then remembered his decision to 'befriend' the vermin. Yuck. His mind wandered for a minute or so, going over his questions for the next day, until he realized that he had nowhere to sleep. Knives' eyes traveled over his strong expanse of chest to the cold floor. Oh well, he sighed to himself, sacrifices were evident when in this sort of situation. When the vermin told him he could turn around, Knives was ready to kill her with the bed sheets for commanding him to do something. Just who did she think she was, continually ordering him around? He grappled with his rage for a moment before turning around, feeling not quite in control of his emotions.

The girl had snuggled up under the covers of the bed, forming a large lump in the bed sheets. What, Knives wondered, was she doing? He asked her, and the girl stuck her head up out of the covers. 

"It's warm under here." she stated calmly as she watched Knives' face redden. "What's the matter? Are you cold?" she asked, concern quite bold in her tone. Knives glared at her. What business was it of hers how he felt, he thought angrily, feeling his anger begin to rekindle. Rhianne took his silence as a yes.

"Do you want to sleep on the bed? I'm fine with the floor." she offered, sitting up, but still clutching the blankets to her chest to hide her underwear. Knives snorted. What was she trying to do? Get on his good side so he would let his guard down and she would escape? Not bloody likely. 

"I'm fine." he found himself stating. The brutal honesty in his voice surprised both him and the vermin, whose eyes widened a little and her eyebrows raised in a questioning motion. "Are you sure Knives? I mean, I've been in worse conditions than a cold floor half-naked, you know." She prodded, obviously trying to be nice. But she had a feeling that manners were wasted on someone like Knives. Even so, it was always worth a try. 

"No, I'm fine. Good night." Knives retorted, his tone final. Rhianne stretched out in the bed, her long body making the best of the unusually long length of the bed, thinking about how she had come to understand a man like him so quickly. She pulled up the blanket to just below her chin, turned her head, and smiled at Knives, who was now sitting on the floor, propped back against the wall, an unhappy look smeared across his face. 

"Good night Knives, sweet dreams." she sighed as she watched him reach up and flick off the light.


	4. Knives Stays Up Late

Disclaimer: Trigun is mine ahahahahaha!!!! Always wanted to say that! Hold on... Trigun isn't mine anymore, it's back where it belongs... damn -_-

Chapter Four: Knives Stays Up Late 

_  
I lie in bed awake at night  
And wonder what went wrong or even more just what went right.  
The Ataris- The Last Song I Will Ever Write About A Girl_

Despite the woman's pleasant blessing, Knives and sleep were far from each other that night. He lay there watching her as she lay upon the bed, with only her deep breathing and the silvery moonlight filtering in from the small window as company in his misery. The only other sound besides his breathing was her own; and he relished in the silence. Dropping his head to rest on his arms he listened to her breath even out until many seconds passed between each breath and he was certain she slept. Rising silently he stepped to her bedside and dropped to his knees, watching her as she breathed in her sleep, inhaling the dancing dust particles in the stale cell air. It was the sleep of innocence, Knives realized. Her brow was clear of any lines, her breath even and confident. She slept with the assurance that no harm would come to her while she slept. He glared at her all the while and hated her for it

For a moment he dwelt upon smothering her; or perhaps choking her in her sleep. Yet he thought it best not to and to solve this mystery. He was truly intrigued by this woman, and he intended to get to the bottom of the mysteries that lay enclosed in her mind. 

Feeling somewhat defeated, Knives slunk back to the wall and rested his chin on his chest. He felt vulnerable and insecure at this revelation that had hit him like a wintry breeze in the heat of summer. So many things he had done that were so unlike him; so many reasons to doubt himself fell upon him as he sat in the dimly lit room, contemplating his own fate and that of his captive. He should have killed her the moment he had laid his eyes upon her, he knew this. Yet her mystery had been too tempting to leave in a fashion such as that, and his curiosity had bettered him. So many small things plagued him in a guilt-like fashion he was most unaccustomed to feeling. Why had he placed her in the bed, instead of simply dumping her to the clod floor like the human trash she was? He had allowed her so many luxuries, he fumed, gazing at her as she slept with an expression that paled the darkness of the room. 

Knives sat silently and pondered the vermin. She seemed so sure of herself; so confident in her words and her actions that no harm would come to her. Well, he sneered at her still form, she certainly would learn the err of her ways soon enough. Yet again he was drawn to wonder why he hadn't taught her any respect. No mortal vermin had ever challenged him the way she had, not even Rem herself. She had stood pacifistically by and only offered advice, never giving direct orders nor speaking in a direct manner. Only in an offhanded way that led one to wonder of the meaning in her words and to find enlightenment within. Enlightenment that he despised with his entire being; hate for her words and theories, which pulsed in his always-beating heart and coursed through his immortal veins. He would hate her forever and he hated this woman who dared to stand before him and proclaim herself to be his equal. 

She moved in her sleep, bringing him out of his dark thoughts to meet with her equally dark form, silhouetted silver in the moonlight. Her hair spilled over the pillow in a dark waterfall, her eyes quivered in her dreams, her hands clutched at the thin blanket that covered her as she slept. He felt Goosebumps rise on his flesh at that moment, regarding her in her warmth and comfort. And why should she, he growled, rising silently to her side. He reached out and for a moment his fingertips hovered above her face, felt the warmth that radiated out from her, her warm breath and the rising and falling of her chest. For a moment he longed to touch her, to rest his fingertips upon her skin just to ensure that she was truly there before him. He had spent so many years enveloped in a blanket of seclusion that he had nearly forgotten how it felt to be in the presence of another, even though she was human. In his mind he chided himself for thinking so; he had simply softened slightly from the years of solitude he had been forced to endure, he concluded, entwining the material in his hands. Pulling it from her he watched it fall from the bed to the floor at his feet like the apple in the Recreation Room of the Seeds ship had so many years ago. He smiled a little as he went back to the wall, wrapping the blanket around himself.Knives' chin dropped to his chest in fatigue, and he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He opened his eyes and looked up at the vermin, who had shifted slightly and was now laying in a fetal position, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, holding them close. Knives' superior vision could see the skin on her bare flesh stand up against the cold, and couldn't help smiling, despite his sleepiness.

This would only be the beginning of her hardships. He would give her no more, grant her no more frivolity and would finish with her in the morning. He would get to the bottom of this mystery and be done with her burden. 

Yes, he concluded with a tired smile as his lids fell again over his eyes, which ached to sleep as she so did. She knew not whom she dealt with, or whom she had angered. Tomorrow she would find out. Tomorrow Knives would prove to her and to himself his utter superiority over her and all her kind and his will would not crumble as it had done so many times during the daylight hours. Tomorrow all of this would be over and done with, and he could go back to his quiet solitude and lay in wait for the day he could fall again upon the world. Tomorrow….


	5. Secrets Revealed

Disclaimer: *sigh* only chapter five and I'm sick of disclaimers.

Chapter Five: Secrets Revealed

Sleep had come easily for Rhianne, but it hadn't stayed that way for long. Her body was extremely sensitive to changes in climate, and she knew, even in her sleep, that Knives had taken the blanket from her. Bastard, she thought bitterly as she opened her tired eyes. 

She was used to waking up early in the morning, and could handle it, but keeping up a bulwark against something as immensely powerful as Knives took a lot of effort, so she had slept deeply and had almost completely recovered; but that didn't stop her from feeling tired. She may not have looked it, nor would she ever have admitted it, but she was both physically and emotionally drained after her little "battle" with Knives. It took a lot of effort to drag herself out of the half-sleep, half-awake stupor she had been stewing in the last few minutes, but was finally dragged up from her slumber by the unhappy thought of how Knives would wake her should she go back to sleep. Or maybe she wouldn't wake up. As her mind processed that last thought, Rhianne felt the nerves of her body come alive and she sat up, assuming a limb-stretching lotus position.

Only the first rays of sunlight filtered through the tiny window in the room. The first thing in the room she could distinguish in the gloom was Knives, who looked warm and snuggily under his stolen blanket. She resisted the temptation to walk over and rip it off him, deciding that probably wouldn't be the best way to start the day. She moved her head slightly and looked at the room. The window and door seemed like the only way to leave, but she didn't need to use any of the powers she had concealed from Knives the day before to figure out that Knives, being no dummy, would have set an alarm or something similar to that on both.

Rhianne caught her sigh in her throat. What happened if she needed to go to the bathroom? Then what? She would be stuck. Another sigh of frustration slid up her throat, but she caught it before it made it's way out her mouth. It was best to be as quiet as possible, she had no idea how well Knives could hear. And the smallest sound might wake him. He might even be awake right now, for all she knew. But Rhianne smiled at her silliness; if Knives was up, then he wouldn't have left her alone for so long. He didn't seem like the type to let someone get their share of decent rest, no matter how well-deserved it was. 

She stretched slowly, her trained body making only the barest of sounds, as she pulled her legs back into their lotus pose on the bed. Gah, when did Knives plan to wake up? She wondered as she slid down onto the bed, laying on her stomach, her chin resting on her arms, and looked at Knives intently. It annoyed her to admit it, but Knives actually was really cute when he wasn't out for blood. 

He had wrapped the blanket around his head, clutching with his fists so tightly that Rhianne could see the whites of his knuckles. She could see that he was quite warm. He was still fully dressed and had a blanket around himself, so he _had_ to be, right? She watched his face contort and twist, creating lines on his brow. Something was bothering him, she realized. She had been around enough people in her lifetime to know when they were troubled, and Knives had problems. 

She nearly snorted. It was obvious that the guy had problems. But it wasn't the fact that he was a homicidal maniac that bothered him, it was something else. Rhianne had already come to understand that Knives was quite proud of the man he was, so that wasn't his problem. Or maybe it was. But that was beyond her comprehension for now. She'd never been one to like invading people's private thoughts. Besides, if she went against her moral, Knives would have more than a hissy fit. 

He was a hypocrite, Rhianne decided as she plunged her hand under the bed and fished out her clothes. Knives would probably kill her if she tried to read his mind, yet he figured it was his business what was in hers. Humph, she thought as she hauled her clothes onto the bed. It was cold, and underwear wasn't the warmest thing around, Rhianne decided as she began to get dressed. She sat up and pulled her turtleneck over her head. She slid slowly off the bed, trying to be as silent as possible. Pulling on her socks, she slid her bodysuit up her torso and buckled her belt around her waist. Lacing up her boots, Rhianne stood for a moment. She felt unclean, and the prospect of clean underclothes appealed greatly to her. But she had everything in her pod, and Knives probably wasn't going to let he go back right now. If ever. 

She finally decided that she would just have to stick all this out until Knives woke up. But the big question was: when? He seemed quite involved in his sleep, and didn't look like he was going to wake up any time soon. So Rhianne did what she felt was the safest: she left him alone. Instead of sitting around and doing nothing, Rhianne walked to the small circular window and gazed out at the landscape. 

Sand, sand, nothing but pale sand. It was boring, but beautiful. The suns were already up over the horizon on the far side of the ship, she could tell the by the shadow of the ship stretching along the ground. her gaze traveled to the sky. It was beautiful. An impossible blue that was still laced with the golden lights of the rising of the suns

She wondered what it to live out there, amongst the sand. She knew that there were a few large cities, and she pondered the struggling lives of the peoples living there. Did they realize how lucky they were to be able to even survive on this harsh planet? Probably not. According to the computers in her pod, 137 years had passed since the crash of the Seeds ship. Why? She wondered. According to the data she had, the ship had been in stable condition, but someone had changed the trajectory. But who would have? All the humans would have been killed if not for Rem Saverem, Rhianne thought sadly. But most were anyway. She pitied them. Her life had been long and wondrous, and she had witnessed many a thing in the span of her lifetime. It was quite a shame that they never had a chance to experience anything. At least they had died in their sleep, Rhianne thought. But she took little comfort in that. Families were all "shipped" together, on the same transport ships. No one wanted to be alone, not sure if your family had survived the trip or not, and special care had been taken to make sure families were together for the long haul that had lay ahead of them. But not all had made it, Rhianne thought as she watched the sand drift lazily over the never-ending dunes. The thought of a small child climbing out of a ship and looking frantically around for their mommy and daddy made tears well up in her eyes. How could someone be so cruel as to split up families like that? A small noise from behind her caused Rhianne to look around, and her eyes were level with Knives' blazing ones.

"Just what do you think you were trying to do, vermin?" he demanded, his voice filled more with annoyance than anger. Rhianne turned to face him.

"Just thinking." she replied simply. Knives eyed her and motioned to the bed "sit." 

Rhianne suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and walked back to the bed. She sat at the head of the bed, her legs crossed once again in her lotus pose; while Knives sat cross-legged at the end. They sat for a moment, not saying anything, until Knives broke the silence.

"You avoided my questions earlier, but you will not today. I want to know how you eluded my barrier." Rhianne inhaled and closed her eyes for a moment. 

"You see Knives, before I left home, I created a mental shield around my ship. It not only concealed me from anyone's mental 'nets', so to speak, and made my ship able to break through any barriers without the creators noticing. That, Knives, is why I didn't realize there was a barrier around Gunsmoke, and why I was able to get through it without you noticing." she paused, and moistened her lips.

"But I made a miscalculation when I created my barrier, you see Knives, you're an extremely powerful plant, (Knives looked quite proud of himself here) and I hadn't counted on a plant as strong as yourself to be on this godforsaken planet. So my ship's computers malfunctioned and I crashed, and that's where you come in."

Knives blinked stupidly for a moment. 

"How do you know I'm a plant?" he asked warily. Rhianne laughed, but cut herself short when Knives' face clouded over. 

"Because I can identify one of my own species." she smiled. Knives blinked stupidly for a moment. "What did you say??" he asked, his voice filling with wonder. Rhianne laughed again, a light, girlish giggle. 

"Let me put it to you this way Knives" she said, speaking slowly as if to a child.

"I. Am. A. Plant." 

*So? So? See that coming? ^_^*


	6. Contemplation and Conclusions

Disclaimer: All Trigun things belong to Mr. Nightow and the other miscellaneous companies 

Chapter Six: Contemplation and Conclusions

Knives couldn't believe what he had just heard. He had superior hearing, so the idea that he had misheard her was out of the question. But could it be true? Had he misheard? Certainly not. She had showed all signs of being a superior being. How could he not have realized it? She had obviously known all along what he was, but why hadn't she told him? He could have avoided much unnecessary questions and wouldn't have wasted his precious time contemplating things that now didn't need contemplating if she had simply been straightforward with him. 

"Liar." he accused. No point in beating around the bush, she _had_ to be lying, it only made sense. He and Vash were the only human-lie plants in existence, so it couldn't be.

"Why would I lie?" the girl asked innocently. Her wide aqua eyes showed no traces of untruth, but Knives wasn't going to be deceived by a silly pair of eyes. she would have to prove it to him. So he told her to do just that.

"Prove it, vermin." he spat, his tone like ice. Rhianne shrugged.

*_Fine then, I will. Geez Knives, why are you so goddamn suspicious? Well, now you_

have no reason to doubt me, happy now?* 

Her voice rung clearly in his head. Reality was like crystal. She was like him. Shit, Knives thought angrily. He shouldn't have made her prove it. Then at least that way he could have toyed with the notion that she was lying. Damn. 

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he asked warily, looking at her intently. She laughed, and now it was no longer as annoying, because now it came from a being like himself. 

"That's simple Knives. You see, I wanted to know how you felt towards the Human race, and felt that I should shield my powers from you for a while until the time was right. And now was certainly the right time to do so." Knives raised his eyebrows at her

"Why was now such a good time to tell me?" he asked, unable to hide the evident curiosity in his voice. Rhianne moved her legs and sat cross-legged for a moment.

"Because if I hadn't you would have killed me. Power of suggestion can only do so much, you know." She smiled "I know that you were angry at yourself for not killing me on sight, then again for not letting me simply drop on the floor, and for a bunch of other things that I'm just too lazy to mention. You did all of those things because I told you to." 

Knives eyed her warily, anger flashing in his eyes for the first time since her revealing her secret to him. "You entered my mind?" he asked, his voice deep and bordering on demanding. Rhianne shook her head, and a few strands of hair fell from the ponytail she hadn't bothered to undo the night before. 

"No Knives. I would never do that. It's something that I try to avoid at all costs. Telepathic Suggestion is simply sending extremely weak mental messages to the person of your choice. There messages sink into their brain, causing them the impulse to do what you're asking. For example, have you ever had someone ask you something, and suddenly you felt the urge to do it?" At Knives headshake, Rhianne continued "Okay then, let me give you a better example. If I was to say to you, 'Gee Knives, let's go out and slaughter some Humans today', you would most likely feel compelled to do it, wouldn't you?" Knives snorted.

"You don't have to suggest killing vermin to make it sound appealing to me." he said, and Rhianne thought for a moment that she caught the traces of a smile on his lips. The thought that Knives could show any emotion other than rage, frustration, and other unhappy feelings made her smile as she continued.

"Okay then, wrong example. But you seem to be getting the general idea. See, all my brain did was send out telepathic thoughts that made you feel compelled to do whatever I asked you to do. It can even be done when someone is unconscious, because our minds take in what's around us, even though we aren't aware of it, and naturally sends mental messages out. A good example of this is when I was cold, I brought myself up into a fetal position, didn't I?" Knives raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, but how did you-" Rhianne cut him off "I knew because it's a natural reaction. You would do the same if you were in the same situation. Any living thing knows instinctively that the smaller it becomes, the less cold it will be. It was like when you brought me into this room; my body could sense what you were going to do because of your arm muscles tightening, and instinctively sent out a message that it didn't want to be dropped. That, Knives, is why you've been acting all weird lately." 

A light bulb seemed to go on in Knives' head. 

"So I was under your influence?" he asked warily. Rhianne nodded "don't take it personally Knives, I didn't mean to. " she said quickly to soothe the dark and ominous look that crossed Knives' face "I was only doing what came naturally, and I'm pretty sure you'd do the same thing given the right circumstances. If you don't like that idea, then I'll try not to, but I can't make any promises."

Knives nodded. For some reason he couldn't comprehend, he suddenly felt a little more comfortable around her. It was as if she had created a bridge across the ravine he had originally thought separated them by simply opening herself to him. He found himself smiling, in spite of himself. Rhianne's stomach grumbled, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Hungry, are we?" he asked, his tone hinting towards menace. Rhianne's eyes drooped and she looked disdainfully at her stomach. Sticking out her tongue a little, she reminded Knives of a small child. Then she looked up and cocked her head to the side, closing her eyes and smiling.

"Sorry about that." she grinned "sometimes I can't control myself. Seriously though, do you think that since I told you what you wanted to know, can I have something to eat?" 

"No." Knives' answer was simple and blunt, and took Rhianne completely by surprise. 

"But why?" she asked, trying her best not to send any suggestions his way. Knives stared at her coldly for a moment, and Rhianne knew immediately that the nearly friendly and bordering-on-happy Knives that had been sitting in front of her was now replaced by the Knives she had come to know; the Don't-Ask-Me-Anything-Because-I'm-Better-Than-You bastard that had been her captor the night before was back, no doubt about it. 

"Because I'm not hungry, and _my_ needs come before yours." he stated. His response was, again, blunt and to-the-point, and this time superiority clung to each word. Superiority he never had and certainly didn't have now, Rhianne snorted to herself. 

"Since when?" she demanded, obviously annoyed. Knives blinked for a moment. 

"Why, since the day I was born, of course. You see, because I'm a superior being, my needs naturally come before yours. So you will wait until I feel it is necessary to eat. I'm sure you can handle that, no?" His last statement made Rhianne's skin seethe with anger she fought to suppress. She wouldn't let Knives get to her like that.

"How do you figure you're a superior being? I'm a plant too, remember? So that puts us on the same plateau. Now, food please?" Knives shot her a look

"I don't care if you are a plant as well, I am still superior not only by intellect, but physically, and the answer is still no."

"Fine then, I don't care. I can go for days without eating anything." she stated boldly. Knives didn't look surprised, but a glint in his eyes told her that he meant to test that statement sometime. Shit, Rhianne scolded herself, why had she gone and opened her mouth like that? Sure, she _could _survive for up to three months without anything to eat, she'd had to do it before. But that didn't necessarily mean she _liked_ to. 

She sighed and let her head lean back lazily on the wall behind her. 

"So then, whaddya wanna do now?" she asked. Knives looked up in a thoughtful manner, one which made him out to be quite cute. 

"I want to know more about you." He stated. Rhianne laughed, a little sound that came out her nose and reminded Knives of a little girl.

"Like what? Come on plant boy, be specific." Knives paused.

"How did you know about my planet and by what means did you get here?" At this Rhianne's stomach growled loudly and she blushed again. Knives looked up at her from beneath his raised eyebrows. She at least had the decency to look embarrassed, he thought to himself. Rhianne sighed loudly and looked defiant. 

"Food?" she asked again, ignoring his question with hope abundant in her voice. Knives sighed angrily, was she _trying_ to annoy him? He certainly hoped not, after all, she _was_ a being like himself, and could be quite useful in his genocide plans. But he would have to make sure she agreed with him before he brought her into his plans. She had already proven herself to be quite resourceful, and even though Knives didn't like the idea, she was a very strong plant. But if she agreed with him, ridding the planet of the vermin would be easier than he had originally planned. So, it was time to venture forth and secure the girl's position in his mind.

"Fine then, answer me this:" Knives started, discarding the fact that she had purposely avoided his questions "how do you feel towards the Humans?" Rhianne looked up and placed a finger on her chin thoughtfully, then a little smile dawned on her face and she looked at him.

"They're not too bad, why?" Knives felt all the hopes he had built up for her shatter. He had decided that now would be a good time to place her position in regards to his plans, and he now knew exactly what she was. Obstacle. Damn, and she could have proved vital to his plans too. That was, unless he could convince her to change her mind. It might take some doing, but Knives was confident in his ability to manipulate, and he had nothing but time on his hands lately anyway. And besides, if she didn't listen, he could always used the tried and true method of literally pounding his views into her. But that might not be the best way to go about it, he decided. Perhaps it would be a wise decision on his part to avoid an unnecessary scuffle that could prove dangerous or, he forced back a gulp, fatal. Even though he had his doubts about that last thought, he was positive a few petty mind tricks weren't the limit of her powers. She was like him, and therefore should have the same abilities. But that could be proven in time, and preferably not in battle between them. Knives finally came to the conclusion that, as he had originally planned, it might be wise to try and befriend her, even though the idea didn't appeal to him greatly. If he could make her comfortable around him he might gain a better perspective of her views and would then have a good tool to manipulate her with. That sounded like the wisest option, Knives decided. He couldn't help grinning at his ingenuity. He was truly brilliant, there was no doubt about it. 

That was the end of Knives' train of thought, as his own stomach gurgled loudly. Rhianne laughed, and he looked down at his abdomen sourly. Argh. Traitor. 

"Well, you're obviously hungry, so can we eat now?" he heard Rhianne ask. He looked up at her, his neck still bent so that he was looking up at her through the hair that fell slightly over his forehead. Knives noted silently that he needed a haircut, but only sighed angrily. 

"Is all you do eat, sleep and laugh?" he asked, his tone betraying the annoyance he obviously felt. Rhianne paused thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded vigorously. 

"Yep, that's about it." she laughed. Knives glared at her, but remembered his pledge to win her confidence and forced himself to smile. "So, can we eat now, please?" Rhianne repeated herself, and Knives stifled a sigh. She was quite demanding. 

He rose from the bed and walked to the door. Within a moment, Rhianne was at his heels, obviously eager to be let out of the cramped room. But Knives wasn't going to let her think she had the upper hand. 

"Listen to me" he started, turning to face her, a grave and ominous seriousness overtaking his features "I don't want you thinking that just because I've let you out of this room that you can do whatever you want. I've got a mental barrier surrounding my ship that I set up last night. Not only that, but I have cameras surveying every inch of the interior and exterior of my ship, so you'd better not do anything, or you will regret it." Knives let menace thicken his last words, and much to his satisfaction, Rhianne nodded her head gravely. Maybe she was beginning to understand his superiority. Knives scoffed in spite of himself. The thought of the woman submitting to him had about the same level of likeliness as the idea of Vash joining him. But, Knives reminded himself, he knew Vash better than he knew this woman. She was a totally different person, that was obvious. She seemed bright and bubbly on the outside, a trait which annoyed Knives to the extent of his patience; but he could tell she was merely covering. She wasn't as happy as she made herself out to be. Like Vash, he thought darkly as he looked at Rhianne as she answered him. 

"Yes Knives, I understand. Nothing stupid. I'll ask you before doing anything, okay?" At Knives' serious nod, she clapped her hands and smiled "thank you Knives." she said, trying to envelop him in a hug. But he shoved her away and looked at her disgustedly. He sincerely hoped that she wasn't going to be like that all the time, or he might just get too annoyed with her one day and kill her before she could be put to good use. And he certainly didn't want that. The faster the vermin were gone, the happier he would be. 

"All right then," he said, not bothering to change his voice from it's monotonous tone "let's go get something to eat."


	7. Food and Deceptions

Disclaimer: Trigun is not mine...

*AHAHAHA!! I actually made it this far!! I'm so proud of me! ^_^!*

Chapter Seven: Food and Deceptions

They walked solemnly down the corridor, Knives not wanting to talk, and Rhianne smart enough not to. Instead she decided to amuse herself by examining Knives' ship. That quickly got boring. Knives obviously had little or no personality, judging by his ship. Each wall was the same color- metal. It wasn't even the cool kind that changed with the lighting. It stayed grey. The same, dull gray the whole long way to wherever Knives was taking her. Hopefully he had a nice big kitchen, with lots of pots and pans and a wide variety of foods to choose from. Knives was a plant, and that meant that whatever personality he might be hiding by the bland hallways of his ship might be revealed in his taste in foods. After all, didn't a person's choice of food normally have a lot to do with their personality? Rhianne snorted. Fat chance of that, this _was_ Knives, after all. Just plain old Mr. I'M-Just-A-Bastard-With-No-Personality. But, Rhianne silently toasted herself, here was hoping.

Her thoughts were quickly placed aside when Knives came to a door. Rhianne couldn't help smiling. Food was behind this door, and that would make anyone happy. But when Knives begrudgingly swung open the door and pushed her in, the smile drooped along with her eyebrows. Knives had taken her into a room with what she assumed was food, but certainly wasn't the kind of food she had expected.

The room was a reasonable expanse of space, but not much bigger than her cell. But there was a dramatic difference between the two rooms: this one had shelving built into the walls, and each shelf was filled with boxes of was looked like ration bars. Rhianne shuddered inwardly. Was this Knives' idea of food? Because if it was, the guy had more problems than she had originally thought.

She walked gingerly over to the shelves and examined the bars curiously. They seemed like the nutrition bars she had to eat while in the Interstellar Space Program back home, but a lot less edible-looking. Rhianne picked up one and unwrapped it slowly, peeling back the plastic wrapper and looking gingerly inside. The bar itself was a pale and somewhat revolting yellow, and looked crunchy. Fun. 

Rhianne took the bar from its wrapper and bit into it slowly, not sure what to expect. It wasn't much for taste, but it certainly filled her stomach, so she ate it and snatched another one from the box, throwing the wrappers hastily to the floor; she could pick them up later. 

A few more bars and a full stomach later, Rhianne leaned back contentedly against a patch of bare wall and breathed a sigh of relief. She felt in a considerably better mood with food in her stomach. She leaned against the wall for a moment, her skull leaning on her thick chestnut hair. A minute passed with no sound in the room. Curious as to what Knives was doing Rhianne opened her eyes and saw Knives was standing in the open doorway, staring at her. She ignored him and closed her eyes again, reveling in the nice feeling that a full stomach gave her. Knives was just being an ass, nothing more, nothing less, she concluded. But she couldn't shake a funny feeling inside her. She just felt uneasy all of a sudden. Then the door clicked closed. 

Rhianne's eyes flew open at the sound. What the hell? In an instant she was on her feet and at the door. As a natural instinct, her hand grasped the knob and twisted frantically. Even though she had known the door was locked from the moment that Knives had closed it, but turning the knob satisfied something in her before she backed up a little and threw herself at the door. After a few unsuccessful attempts Rhianne realized that it wasn't a doorknob lock or electric lock that kept her in the room, but rather a lock that had been created by Knives' mind. He had purposely done this. She scoffed at herself. Of _course_ he had done this. Knives was an asshole who wanted her dead because he saw her as an obstacle, so he had decided to get rid of her. 

Looking frantically around the room, Rhianne spotted nothing that could be used to break down the door. All there was in the room was shelving, hundreds of boxes of ration bars, and a small ventilation grate in the ceiling. She eyed this for a moment, but decided against crawling into it; it looked far too small to fit her. But she had to grin in spite of her situation, because Knives had made a big mistake: he had left her locked in a room with hundreds of nutrition bars that could sustain people with one bar a day. Not that smartest move he had ever made, she was sure. 

Then she heard the air circulation go off.

Rhianne cursed at herself for not realizing it beforehand. Knives had obviously known that he had left her in a room with food; he just wasn't that dumb. But he knew that nothing could live without oxygen. But that would just mean that she would have less time to escape, Rhianne reasoned. It wasn't that much of a problem just yet. 

"Knives!" she called, hoping he hadn't left "you've had your fun, now let me out." She heard the sound of Knives laughing from the other side of the door, and felt her blood pressure begin to rise. 

"Let me out Knives!" she shouted. Even though Rhianne knew that she could get herself out, she wanted to see what Knives would do if she pleaded with him. She was on the verge of hoping that he would listen and be a nice guy for once and open the door. But she was expecting a different, less caring response from him. And when he did respond, even though it was the answer she was expecting; she didn't like the response she got: Knives was laughing loudly and energetically in the freedom of the hallway. Rhianne felt her eyes being to glow with anger. To lock someone in a room was one thing, but she had realized what he was doing: Knives was testing her. He wanted to see her abilities, what she would do in the face of danger. Even if it meant taking her life in the process. What a prick. 

Rhianne placed a hand on the door, through which she could hear Knives' increasing laughter; he was laughing at her situation and was waiting for her to die, she thought angrily as she focused her energy into the palm of her hand and into the metal of the door. The metal responded by turning a fiery red and beginning to hiss. She inhaled deeply and a beam of energy exploded from her palm into the door. 

The door flew into the hallway and hit the far wall, disfiguring it considerably and sending screws and sharp bits of metal flying; one of which hit the lighting fixture above. The light bulbs exploded, plunging a large percentage of the hallway into darkness, and bits of glass flew everywhere, accompanied by a shower of sparks that flew into the air and landed in little smoldering piles on the floor. Smoke clouded the hallway, thick and black from the explosion. And out of this gloom stepped Rhianne, her eyes ablaze with fury.

So Knives thought he could toy with her and get away with it did he? Rhianne thought angrily as she stepped out of the gloom, then the arrogant bastard had another thing coming.

******************************************************************************

Knives was feeling quite pleased with himself as he walked slowly down the corridor away from the Storage Room. He had decided the he wanted to test the girl's powers in a life-or-death situation, and had found the perfect situation: he would simply lock her in the storage room and create a wall of air to stop the air circulation. It was simple, yet ultimately effective. And it wasn't as if he planned for her to die anyway. If the girl was what she claimed to be, then she would be able to find a way out. It was her means of escape that bothered Knives. She would inevitably blow down the door, and that would mean he would have to put another in. A hassle he didn't particularly want to have. But, he wrestled mentally with himself, it was well worth it if it gave him a better perspective of the girl's powers. The intensity of the blast would reflect on how much energy she was willing to deplete in a crisis, and the way she acted afterwards would lend him an insight on how using her powers affected her energy levels, not to mention how she would react towards him after he had tried to kill her. And the latter of all the statistics would help him greatly in the long run; if he could figure out what made her tick he would be able to determine how well the girl managed her anger, and what extent's she would go to hide her anger from him. Then he might have an advantage in manipulating her to his cause. All in all, locking her in the storage room seemed like a good plan to test the woman, Knives had concluded. 

He had watched her reaction when he had ushered her into the room, and was quite pleased to see that her face would oftentimes reveal her emotions. In this particular case, she was unpleasantly surprised. He knew what she had been expecting: a large kitchen with lots of varied food and drink with which she could satisfy the raging hunger that gnawed away at her insides. Knives had almost turned back at the prospect of being able to make her suffer, but, be it the Telepathic Suggestions she was most likely sending his way, or his own hunger, Knives had kept walking. And the collapse on the girl's face when all she saw was box upon box of Ration Bars was well worth it anyway. Knives had seen the happy smile that had dawned upon her face when he had stopped at the door, and was rewarded with her features shatter like glass with what he had shoved in her face. It pleased him greatly to see her be so let down. 

He had watched her wolf down several Ration Bars until she was sitting on the floor, unsuspecting and relaxed, and took advantage of it and swiftly closed the door. He had watched her beforehand as well, though; how she moved, what she did during the walk, etc. He had noted that she had shut up during the time it had taken to get to the Storage Room. Good, he had thought darkly, maybe she was catching on. Not that he had particularly minded this, but it had made him uneasy that she was being so distant. It just didn't seem right. Then again the girl might have simply been trying to be polite. A gesture which Knives appreciated, but certainly wasn't going to remember or pay back any time soon. He felt no need to be polite to anyone. He had never felt the urge to be polite, the idea itself seemed beneath him. 

But it was all besides the case, Knives had decided as he had stood, laughing loudly outside the Storage Room door as Rhianne pounded on the door frantically, pleading with him to let her out. This sparked something in Knives that he hadn't felt since the Gung Ho Guns had died: he felt ruthless, cruel, and all-powerful. She was begging for her life on the other side of the door. It was like being transported back in time, Knives thought to himself. The way she sounded, so desperate, so utterly scared, that he couldn't help but laugh even louder. This was too much fun. He should do this more often, Knives decided. He disregarded the mental blows Rhianne threw at him, and laughed even louder at the Telepathic Suggestions that crowded his brain. She was just too much fun to play with, Knives thought as he felt his pupils shrink in anticipation of the destruction that would evidently ensue when Rhianne found her way out. He was looking forward to some bloodshed. It had been a while since he had caused some pain, and the idea appealed to Knives so much the he temporarily toyed with the notion of simply blowing down the door for her and killing her simply for not being able to escape before he got bored. But, Knives smiled to himself, then he would never find out the girl's limits if she died. 

When the pounding on the door stopped and the pleas for help from Rhianne's side of the door stopped abruptly, and Knives wondered for a moment if she had died. But he could feel her energy and the wild beating of her heart as well as the rapid train of thoughts that rushed through her brain behind the door that assured Knives that she was far from dead. Knives contemplated sticking around to see how she decided to get out; would she simply barge through the barrier he had made? Would she be able to avoid his barrier and simply walk out? Would she take out the hinges? He had been debating for a few minutes when he noticed the door was beginning to turn a bright red, and was beginning to hiss. Knives stared stupidly at the door for a minute, not quite comprehending the gravity of his situation; he was leaning on a wall across from a door that was about ready to explode. For a moment in his blind madness, Knives wasn't exactly sure of what Rhianne was doing on the other side of the door, or why it was turning red and hissing.

But he did when the door blew off it's hinges. 

Knives only escaped as a result of his natural abilities as a plant, which had granted him his lightening-fast reflexes. And he had certainly put them to good use when the door had flown towards the him. It exploded across the hallway and directly at him almost before he had realized what was happening, and was hardly aware of the fact the his feet ricocheted from the ground and carried him further down the hallway and out of the way of the flying debris that spewed from the corridor.

He had landed on his feet in a crouching position just out of the range of the sizzling shower of exploding rain from the lighting fixture above, and wasn't fazed by the cloud of smoke that hung in the hallway. He was focusing on the pair of fiercely glowing eyes whose light seemed to slice like knives through the grey smoke. The light blazed like fire as he made out Rhianne's shape begin to walk slowly and purposefully through the ashy air. A chill ran down Knives' spine and he realized for the first time ever that he wasn't sure what was to come, and it bothered him. What would she do? He wondered as the other plant approached, the aqua light resonating from her eyes never flickering as she made her way towards him. 

Knives watched in awe as Rhianne emerged from the smoke that clouded the pitch black hallway, her eyes still ablaze with light. She was going to charge any minute now, Knives thought steadily as he stood and prepared himself both mentally and physically for the onslaught that was completely inevitable. She was going to try and kill him, that was for sure, and Knives wasn't going to let her. He was expectant and willing to battle, and was completely positive of the outcome: within a minute the girl would be writhing on the ground in agony as he stood, triumphant, above her as she begged pathetically for his mercy. Knives couldn't help but smile at that thought as Rhianne emerged from the ashy air.

She stepped out of the smoke, which parted like a curtain before her, her eyes aglow and her face twisted into a scowl. Her hands clenched and unclenched so tightly that Knives could see the white of her knuckles as her bones moved. A small chill crept up Knives' spine as she focused her deathly glare on him and began to walk towards him in bold, purposeful strides. 

Knives' inner defenses roared to life. His hearing increased, his breath grew short and ragged, his mind readied itself for the onslaught, his fists readied to fly, and the hairs on his neck stood up as Rhianne stopped a few feet from him.

_This is it_ Knives thought, his mind barely able to transmit movements because of the apprehension that clogged his mind, _she's going to make her move_. He tensed, ready for the attack which never came.

Rhianne inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Her muscles loosened, her knuckles regained their color, and the glow coming from between her closed eyelids receded. She raised her right hand and crossed her middle and index fingers, folding down the other three, making a peace sign. She inhaled She cocked her head to the side and smiled brightly. 

"Hey Knives" she said while still holding her stance, fingers crossed, her other hand on her hip, that reminded Knives eerily of Vash. "Miss me?"


	8. Explanations

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun So leave me be!

Chapter Eight: Explanations

A/N: Some of the concepts for some of the plant abilities Knives and Vash possess I'll be talking about are purely works of fiction, and are not true whatsoever. I just wanted to create a useful purpose for the Angel Arms and try to explain some of the questions I've had while watching the show. These ideas are my own, and are not to be taken seriously. Thanks, L.L.

Rhianne had contemplated with the idea of charging at Knives head-on and kicking the living shit out of him, but that just didn't appeal to her right now. She wanted to get to know her kin better, and had figured that kicking the living crap out of him wouldn't help in the long run. So, instead, she had decided to act silly and suppress her rage by acting like a goofball. 

And Knives obviously wasn't surprised for it. The look of utter amazement on Knives' normally well-controlled features was well worth not beating the shit out of him. It was priceless, and something Rhianne would come back to during tough times in the future. But now was a time to think about the present.

"So Knives' ol' buddy, what now?" she asked, folding her arms behind her head in a relaxed pose and leaning against the wall. Knives shot her a waspish look. 

"I am not your buddy, nor am I even close to your friend." he spat, crossing his arms like a child that was being told to go to bed and wouldn't. Rhianne backed off a little.

"Geez, okay. I get your point, don't go postal on me." she sighed. Knives sighed as well. 

"Hey Knives?" she asked warily. He stared icily at her "what is it now?" he demanded. 

"Um... I don't want to seem like a bother (Knives snorted) but I really need some clean clothes. And I was wondering if you would let me go to my pod and-"

"Let you wander around _my_ planet? Not likely." Knives laughed. Rhianne shot him a sad look "please?"

"No."

"Ouch..." Rhianne paused thoughtfully for a moment, and then her face brightened "why don't you come with me then? You don't have to worry about me running off, and I can tell you stuff." Knives blinked at her stupidly. He had never had a captive so willing to divulge information as she. Cool. He resisted the urge to grin. 

"Let's go." he stated. 

****************************************************************************** 

"So what is it you want to know?" Rhianne asked him as they walked through the sand. 

Knives paused thoughtfully. There was so much about her he wanted to know, and he couldn't figure out which question was the most important. 

"Alright Knives" Rhianne said after waiting a few minutes "how about this: I'll start telling you about the plants, and you can ask me questions along the way."

At Knives' nod, she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, unsure of where to start. She decided that it would make the most sense to simply start from the beginning, as not to confuse the poor boy. 

"About three hundred years ago, the Human race was forced to leave their polluted planet in search for a new home amongst the stars. To be able to do this, Project Seeds was drafted to transport the humans to their new homes. But a few flaws still needed to be worked out. For one: how would the Humans survive on an alien planet? If they had nothing to eat, what would supply them with it? If there was nothing to drink, who would give them water? In short, who would look after the Human race until they were able to take care of themselves. And the answer to these questions came in the form of the Plants. But as I'm sure you know Knives, the Plants were living things, so that provided a challenge, the answer to which I'll get to later. Anyways, the humans needed people to look after the plants, and who were able to communicate with the beings inside the bulbs, so our species of plants were created to upkeep them and make sure nothing went wrong until they were no longer needed. 

"Our species of Plant was genetically manipulated so that our life spans were longer, we never grew old, we were faster, smarter, stronger and all-around better than those that created us. We were also granted tools to work with the plants to ensure they didn't run out of life when they were needed. And we were also given the Angel-Blades, which served to protect ourselves and our kin from anything that might try to harm us."

"Then what do our Angel Arms do? Are they also defense mechanisms?" Knives interrupted her. Rhianne shook her head.

"No, Angel Arms serve a much more important function than killing people. Have you encountered another plant with hair that is going black?" Knives nodded "good, that is because they used their Angel Arm multiple times, isn't it? You see, when we use our Angel Arms, our life force depletes, and we begin to make the slow descent into death. What I'm getting at is that the beam you create contains your life force. And the Plant's use their life force to keep working. Have you made the connection yet?"

Knives looked thoughtful "So... our Angel Arms were granted to us to keep our sisters alive? But how does that work?" Rhianne smiled.

"Now you're getting it. And about the hook-ups, they're deep inside the 'belly' of the Plant, as you might call it. There's a large circular opening that your Angel Arm fit's into, and when the energy is released into it, the Plant absorbs part of your life force, and is able to live longer. Let me give you another example: before the cloning process became widely known, humans who had damaged organs could receive those from others. Like if someone had a liver disease, someone could donate one of theirs to save that person. They give part of themselves to save others. And there are also cases where people have given their major organs and died to save others. This is like the function of the Angel-Arm. We give part of our life to the Plants so that they can keep on living as well. That is the real function of our species: we are there to help the other Plants take care of Humans." she inhaled deeply, anticipating Knives' response. 

He blinked stupidly for a moment, standing still. And then came the response Rhianne had been waiting for: "no....."

Knives' mind reeled faster than he could keep up with. If what she said was true, then he was meant to keep his sisters alive. That was a good thing, and he knew that he would willingly give all of his life to save his family, and would die a slow and painful death for his idiot brother whom he loved so dear. But not for the vermin. For the vermin he would do nothing save slaughter them all. Hell, he would even pick them off one-by-one if it meant being able to create his Eden. But he certainly wasn't going to give his life support to ensure his sibling's suffering. They were his family, and he would never try to hurt them.

*_I know that Knives...*_ Rhianne replied, reading his _mind *but there's nothing you can do. It's our destiny. It's either them or us…_*

"Hold on a moment" Knives said "My brother and I are the only plants that live outside the bulbs, and we can only create our Angel-Arms with the help of our guns, so does that mean that the other plants know how to make the guns as well?" Rhianne shook her head.

"Well… no. You see Knives, as I said before, we are genetically enabled to create Angel Arms, but some of the weaker of our species need the special use of guns to form them. These plants are generally removed from the plant bulbs either too early or too late, so either their Angel Arm abilities are too underdeveloped to use them without the aid of guns, or too overdeveloped and…" she trailed off, looking at her feet as she walked. Knives let her be for a moment, then grew weary of waiting for her to finish, and stood in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders and stopped her. She raised her eyes to meet his, an action that made Knives uneasy. 

"Continue." He urged. Rhianne sighed and gazed past him into the billowing sand for a moment, trying to grasp the words. 

"They die, Knives. They are born with the Angel Arms in permanent use, and because it requires a great deal of energy to keep an Angel Arm stabilized, most don't make it past a week. The strain is just too much for their newborn bodies to handle, and they die." She sighed, and watched Knives' eyes turn stony.

"It's the vermin's fault. If they would just leave them alone, then they would be able to become Plant Angels and would be fine. It's all the meddling vermin's fault, as usual."

Rhianne stopped in her tracks and watched as Knives walked for a moment, not realizing she wasn't beside him. She watched him walk, slow, deliberate steps that imprinted his footprint firmly into the sand, leaving his mark on his planet. He was such an ignorant fool, she thought angrily.

"Don't call me that, or it will be the last thought you will ever think." Knives spat back at her, after picking up on her thoughts "hurry up and explain to me just why I'm an ignorant fool." Rhianne obeyed and quickly caught up with him. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes, a tense quietness building between them. Knives angry with her for calling him an ignorant fool, Rhianne angry with him for being one. 

"Come on then, tell me why I'm so ignorant." Knives challenged again.

"Fine then" Rhianne shot back "I'll tell you why: the plants would die anyway. But they would die much more painfully in the bulb than they would outside of it." Knives paused thoughtfully for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on her words.

"Why?" he asked finally "a plant should be able to survive inside its natural habitat. So the baby should be just fine, shouldn't it?" 

"Not exactly Knives." his female companion commented " I'll try to be as non-technical as possible. Think of it this way: I'm a woman right? So I can get pregnant and have a baby. While I'm pregnant, my baby lives inside of me and feeds off of me. Which means that I have to eat more, drink more, sleep more, and I become sick and depressed. All of the aforementioned things apply to Plant Angels as well. They have to sustain the baby with their life force, and they become ill and the plant begins to malfunction. That results in not only the Plant Angel getting sick, but the baby inside as well. That harms both mother and child, and it is always safer not only for the humans that depend on the plant, but the plant itself and its child for it to be removed."

"You didn't answer my question" Knives interrupted "why not simply leave the baby inside of the plant and let it stay as a Plant Angel?"

"Ah, good question. You see, as I was getting at, it takes a lot of the Plant's life force to be able to create a new plant baby, and the baby need energy to be able to grow and develop into a properly functioning plant. So, this baby leeches off Mama Plant Angel's energy, slowly killing it. And as you know, we need a lot of energy to survive, so unless the babies are removed, they kill the mother, causing the plant to explode. Which also kills the baby. So if the humans did what you suggested, then you can kiss our race good-bye.

"But getting back to the whole Angel-Arm thing; it's very hard to determine when to remove a plant child from the bulb. One hour can make all the difference, Knives."

She paused for a moment, staring up at the clear blue sky as they walked. Her mouth was dry, and she wanted a few minutes of quiet. But Knives wasn't going to let the subject drop.

"Why is it so hard to figure out when to remove the babies?" he asked. Rhianne sighed, the idea of a few minutes of quiet time going away like her breath in the wind.

"It's hard to pinpoint things like that. Human children are very easy to predict, because they all evolve at the same rate of nine months. In fact, their birth can be pinpointed to the day. But plants are a whole different story, not to mention a whole different species. We go from our cell-state to our birth-state very quickly, within a matter of weeks because of our genetic makeup. And because we evolve so quickly, it's very easy to make a miscalculation. Very few plants are removed from the bulb at the right time. Which makes for a lot of either undeveloped or overdeveloped plants." 

"Why is it that we don't stop evolving?" Knives prodded, interrupting her.

"Because we are a superior breed, Knives, and even when we're alive, we're still evolving. How do you think we stay immortal? Our bodies are constantly re-making the parts of our bodies that will die. At the age of 138, you have gone through three hearts, Knives. God only knows how many other organs you have re-created, but that's how it works. And unless we are removed from the bulbs at a certain time, we aren't given the chance to let our bodies function normally. And as a result of that, we continue to create organs we already have, and it kills us."

"So, because of my immense power, that means that I must have been removed at just the right time!" Knives boasted, smiling proudly. Rhianne took a step backwards, unsure of whether or not to break it to him. Then she decided to just leave him be, it wasn't wise to get on Knives' bad side. She grinned a faulty grin and suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. 

"You sure are Knives, you sure are."

A/N: Once again, don't take anything here into consideration. It's all my ideas and not to be taken seriously. Thanks and mucho love, LL.


	9. Discussions

Disclaimer: Disclaimers suck, Trigun's not mine -_-

Chapter Nine: Discussions

A/N: Sorry about this being so short, I've just rented Fatal Frame, and I'm too busy being scared shitless to write ^^ 

Rhianne and Knives marched through the deserts for a long time, neither eager to rekindle the conversation they had been having. Rhianne's throat was too dry, and Knives was still trying to grasp the concepts she had been explaining to him. 

She sighed quietly. The people on this planet were so screwed. With the situation back home they weren't going to get off this accursed planet before Knives killed them all off like the insects he thought they were. 

"Knives?" she asked, somewhat unaware of what she was saying. Her male counterpart turned to her as they walked, the sandy air ruffling his hair, and looked at her with his ice blue eyes.

"Yes?" 

"Did your brother survive the crash?" she asked, staring off into the hazy blue sky. Knives came to an abrupt halt, his eyes burning holes into Rhianne's back. 

"What did you say?" His voice thick with mistrust and wariness, Knives reached out and spun her around, her aqua eyes meeting with his. 

"I asked you if your brother survived the crash." She stated calmly. 

"How do you know about my brother?" Knives demanded, his voice rising to a shout which echoed into the distance. Rhianne's eyes never wavered as she stared up at him through the loose strands of hair. 

"Knives, I've known about you and Vash even before you were removed from the bulbs. I'm three Earth years older than you, you know." Knives snatched her collar and pulled her close to him, her face inches from his.

"Good for you, but that doesn't explain how you know about my brother and I." He hissed, his warm breath tingling against Rhianne's skin. 

She sighed, her breath hitting Knives' face, smelling lightly of mint. Her eyes moved away from his, but he jerked her a little, and her eyes crept back to his.

"I was on a Seeds ship." She said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. Knives blinked for a moment, grappling with her words.

"That's impossible, I was on the Seeds ship, and Vash and I were the only plants aboard." Rhianne sighed quietly.

"I never said I was on your Seeds ship, I said I was on _a _Seeds ship, not yours specifically." Knives' eyes narrowed. "I was on the only Seeds ship." He stated loudly.

"No, you weren't." Rhianne spat, pulling out of his grasp "you underestimate the intelligence of the Human race, Knives." She hissed, backing away from him. 

"You didn't honestly think that they would be stupid enough to send all of their people on one measly ship, did you?" At Knives' blank look, she laughed "you're an idiot, Knives. Did you honestly think that they would risk their survival like that? No, of course they wouldn't. So there were three Seeds ships created, each taking one-third of the population out into space. Very few Humans stayed behind, but some were too stubborn to leave their planet, and the rest left on the ships.

"During the trip, our species of plant were developed and the plants were adjusted. I was born on one of those ships along with my brother, Corrin. In the other ship two others were born: Aeris and Andan. On your ship, you and Vash were born. I know this because the ships kept close contact with each other."

"Why wasn't I notified of this?" Knives asked wonderingly as they walked along, sounding somewhat hurt. The tone of his voice making Rhianne smile in spite of the psychopath he was.

"Do I have to answer that?" she asked hesitantly, the smile sliding off her face like water on glass. Knives cut her a look that spoke his words for him: yes, she did. She sighed.

"Alright, but don't take this personally, okay?" Knives nodded, but Rhianne didn't feel any more secure. She had a sneaking suspicion that Knives was just saying that so he could hear what she had to say.

"Well Knives… The crew of the Seeds ship saw your attitude as a threat, so you and your brother weren't notified of the other existing ships. It was for their safety and the safety of the Humans onboard." Knives glared at her darkly, as if it were her fault. 

"I see… but I won over them anyways, I killed them all, even that bitch Rem Saverem." He stated icily, not looking at her.

Rhianne whirled and was upon him before Knives knew what was happening. He fell back on the rough sand on his back, Rhianne's thumbs digging fiercely into his neck, pushing at his Adam's Apple. Her eyes glowed with the same light he had seen back at his ship; light that showed nothing but pure rage. Her lips were pulled back, showing her clenched pearly teeth through which wheezed short, ragged gasps of breath. She was sitting over his chest, her face inches from his. For a moment, Knives thought she was close enough to knock his head against hers, but she leaned back and threw her head back, her chestnut locks tumbling from her ponytail. And she screamed a long, shrill shriek that sent chills rippling up Knives' spine as she pressed harder against his throat. 

Knives gasped for breath, unable to believe that none could pass to his lungs. His legs thrashed helplessly behind him; she was too far up his body to be able to kick her in the back of the head or to be able to be bucked off. Her knees pinned his arms into the sand as he tried, in vain, to remove her from his body. She moved her face closer to his, her cry of rage ending, and her eyes met his, the aqua met ice.

"Don't you dare… insult Rem Saverem." She hissed, the last three words backed up by a small push of her fingers into his windpipe "She is the savior of the Human race, our creators, and you are in not place to bash her good name."

With that said, she jumped back from him, flipping in the air once and landing on her toes in the sand a few feet from him. Knives rose slowly, wiping sand from his clothes. His gaze was dark.

"If I cannot 'soil' her name because you say she is the savior of the vermin of this planet, then just why did you try to kill me, the savior of our species?" he asked, his voice dark, hurt, and smug. Rhianne snorted.

"How are you their savoir? You crashed the ship and because of you, our sisters are dying. I wouldn't call that saving them."

"I'm working on that whole killing of the vermin to save our family thing…" Knives trailed off. Rhianne sighed.

"Did you notice that we have a tendency to get off-topic?" she asked absently. Knives nodded, nearly as absent-mindedly, his mind chewing over the thoughts crawling around his mind "yeah"

"So getting back to my original question: did your brother survive the crash?" Knives shot her a look "of course he did. He related to me, isn't he?" He retorted smugly. Rhianne rolled her eyes.

"Oh look, there's my pod." She stated making an obvious attempt to end the conversation and pointing to the half-covered orb on the horizon "we have to get to it before it becomes covered!" And with that, she took off and ran over the last dune, leaving Knives behind her.


	10. Strange Hobbies

Disclaimer: Trigun is locked away in a large gold chest in the producer's home, not mine.

Chapter Ten: Strange Hobbies

Rhianne bounded over the dune, leaving a spray of sand behind her, and almost instantly Knives was at her heels. She looked to her right and smiled at him. He was trying to beat her, that much was obvious. The look of determination smeared across his face was proof of that. She grinned, and veered off course and plowed into him, grabbing him around his middle and pushing him into the sand. They landed there, her arms around his waist and her head on his chest; her hair sprawled out like a deep brown fan over his white shirt.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, glaring over his muscular chest at her. She moved her head so that she could see his face, and grinned at it. Letting go of his chest, she stood without answering, and extended him her hand to help him up. Knives refused and got up on his own.

"I couldn't just let you beat me, now could I?" Rhianne responded before taking off towards the nearby pod. She reached it in an instant, laying her right palm on the hull of the ship, grinning at Knives who walked leisurely down the slope. 

"I win." She boasted, grinning mischievously at him through a large loose clump of her hair. Knives' eyes widened a little "we were racing? I wasn't aware" he bluffed. Rhianne smirked. He wasn't very good at lying. 

"Oh well. I won and that's that." She said, leaning into her ship, her upper half disappearing beneath the scarred metal surface.

"Girl?" Knives asked absently. 

"Rhianne." Came the reply "and what is it?"

"When you first met me, you said I was an extremely powerful plant. And just now you lied to me about being the most powerful plant alive, it is true… isn't it? I _am_ the most powerful plant, aren't I?" He leaned back against the hull of the ship, waiting for her response. The other plant sighed.

"No Knives, you're not. I'm sorry to burst your bubble. Remember how I said some of the weaker plants needed the help of guns to form the Angel Arms? Well, you're one of those plants, Knives. You're pretty powerful for a plant of that heritage, but that's about it. I'm sorry." Came her voice from the pod. She sounded genuinely unhappy to be telling him this, but Knives had a sneaking suspicion that she had been waiting to drop the bomb on him since her first comment.

Knives bit his lip. He eyed the door of the door he had left partially intact, and considered slamming it on her and leaving her to be smothered beneath the sand.

_*I wouldn't do that if I were you, Knives. Remember the storage room door?* _Rhianne's mind spat back at him, accompanied with a rather tight pinch on his mind *_and besides, don't ask a question unless you are prepared to hear what people have to say. You've been omnipotent too long, my friend.* _

Knives sighed. The damn girl had a point, it hadn't been wise to ask in the first place, but he needed to know. But… that didn't necessarily mean he had to agree with it. The solution to all his problems was simply to close the door and… Another sharp pinch at his mind told him off, and he leaned back against the smooth curved exterior of the pod. A few strands of hair fell in front of his face, and he noted that it was time for a haircut. 

Silence built itself between them, neither wanting to talk. The only sound was Rhianne rustling her things inside the pod. Knives closed his eyes against the light of the suns, but found the noonday sunlight too harsh and moved his gaze to the sand. He sighed. Typical woman, taking so long with everything. She couldn't just take the necessities, like she said she was going to, no, then that would make things _easy._

*_I never said that, don't put words in my mouth* _Rhianne's mental voice chided him *_I'm almost done, and would you quit sending me those angry thoughts? Think something _happy_, for once Knives!*_

Knives didn't answer her, instead, he decided to focus on her mental voice. Mental voices were tricky things, because they sometimes sounded like that of the sender, but other times like your own. But hers was different. It was the mental voice you hear when you think to yourself. It _had_ no tones, pitches, or octaves. It was just… _there_. It was odd, because Vash used to talk to him mentally when they were children, and his mental voice was always his own. But she was different. Different from Vash, different from him, different from all the plant angels… she had something more to her than that. Sometimes it seemed as if another life spoke from within her as well. Curious… could she possibly be-

"Done!" Rhianne interrupted his thoughts. She pulled herself from the pod, a large backpack on her shoulder and a large plastic plank in her hand. She put her hand on his shoulder "ready to go?" she asked. Knives shrugged her hand off and started to walk up the dune. 

"What exactly did you get?" he asked as they trudged through the sand. Rhianne shrugged, and her pack shifted accordingly. 

"Nothing much, just the essentials. Clothes… stuff." She smiled at him. Knives looked temporarily sour, then pointed at the board in her hand "what's that then? That certainly doesn't look like a necessity" he prodded. Rhianne smiled.

"Ah, I'll show you when we reach the top of this dune." She pointed to a nearby dune. Knives' eyes widened "_that_ dune? It's huge and completely out of the way!" he shouted, but his female counterpart was already halfway up the hill. That girl would be that death of him, Knives grumbled as he took off after her.

Knives' observation had proven true, it had been an unusually large hill for his planet, but they reached the top of it nevertheless; Rhianne out of breath and Knives pretending not to be.

"So, what is this thing?" Knives demanded breathlessly, pointing to the hunk of plastic in her hand. Rhianne placed it down on the sand.

"It's a Sandboarding board." Knives blinked "a what?" Rhianne sighed.

"In the early 21st century, Sandboarding became an uber-popular sport to those who lived in dry, dusty areas and who either couldn't afford to or simply couldn't go snowboarding. My planet was predominantly snowy, so I learned to snowboard. But I've Sandboarded, and made sure to bring my board with me when I came here." 

"How's it done?" Knives asked, sounding unimpressed.

"I'll show you." Rhianne laughed, and stood on her board. She bent down, strapped her feet in and fixed her hair. She was just about to push off when Knives' hand encircled her wrist. She turned around to meet eyes with him.

"Don't try anything." He said menacingly. Rhianne pushed his forehead lightly 

"Knives, you're so untrusting, when are you going to lighten up? Look, you can run alongside me if it makes you feel any better." She grinned "that is… if you can keep up." With that said, she pulled her wrist from his grasp and launched herself down the hill. 


	11. Unexpected

Disclaimer: Bah, Trigun isn't mine…

Chapter Eleven: Unexpected…

Rhianne shot down the hill like lightening, crouching to make herself go faster. She laughed joyously, she loved nothing more than the rush she got as she did when she was at breakneck speed like this, the sand flying around her… and the thrill of being able to do something Knives couldn't was fun too, of course. 

Knives, meanwhile, had been expecting her to shoot herself down the hill, and was running at top speed, a little behind her, as they both raced down the hill. He gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes against the spray of sand his counterpart created as she sped along with ease.

Rhianne reached the bottom of the hill and coasted to a stop, smiling at Knives as he stumbled to a stop. He glared at her "did you have to do that?" he demanded, irritated. She smiled at him

"Of course, I wouldn't be Rhianne Alexandria De LaTour, would I?" she smiled. Knives looked dubious "what's with all the names?" he asked.

"You see, even though I was fully grown by the time we reached my planet, my brother and I were still placed in a volunteer family to be better suited with society on the new planet. They gave me the middle name Alexandria and their surname De LaTour. And I became so close to them that these two names just seemed to stick with me." Knives raised his eyebrows "you took on a name the vermin gave you?" he asked disgustedly. Rhianne smiled " they're not as bad as you think, Knives." He snorted.

Rhianne unbuckled her boots from the board and stood it up, leaning on it. 

"So, whatdidja think of my Sandboarding skills?" she boasted, turning to him smugly. Knives waved a hand in boredom. 

"I could do that blindfolded." He scoffed. She laughed "ha! I'd like to see you try!" Knives shot her a look.

"I'm a plant, and I could do that easily." He boasted. She raised her eyebrows "could you? You might want to take time to remember that _I'm_ a plant too, and it took me a long time to learn." Knives shot her a dark look. 

"Well, I may be undeveloped, as you say, but I'm still capable of learning things quickly." Rhianne rolled her eyes "it took me a whole day on the slopes to be able to make it to the bottom. And man, did my ass hurt after that; I couldn't sit down for a few days without a pillow." 

Knives snorted again "I could master this within this very day.".

At this statement Rhianne burst out in laughter "sure you could." She managed to get out between fits of laughter. Knives looked miffed "yes, I could. In fact, give me that damn thing, and I'll try it right now." He reached for the board, but the other plant pulled it away from him.

"Ah, ah, ah…" she taunted, dancing away from him "you said you could do it blindfolded, and I wanna see this." With that said, she grabbed Knives' hand and pulled him up the hill. 

Once there, she pulled a bandana from her bag and wrapped it around Knives' eyes. She couldn't figure out why he wasn't resisting, but figured it was probably him being smug and snobbish. 

Unbeknownst to her, Millions Knives was, for the first time in his life, scared shitless.

He stood, trying to seem calm, as she fit his boots into the board, pulling the Velcro straps over them a few times because they weren't the right kind. He bit his lip, and inhaled deeply as she steadied him on the board and put her hand on his shoulders from behind him.

"Don't be scared Knives" she whispered in his ear "IT'S ONLY ABOUT BALANCE!!" 

She shouted the latter part as she pushed him, launching the petrified plant down the hill. He lasted for about three seconds, making it halfway down the hill out of sheer luck, then wiping out face-first into the ripples of the sand. 

Rhianne was at his side in a flash, throwing off the blindfold and pulling his head up to see if he was okay. A moment after her hands touched his face, the sting of his hand against her cheek sent her sprawling. Yep, he was okay. She pulled herself to her feet, grinning broadly at Knives, who loomed over her, his eyes aglow.

"Not as easy as you thought, is it?" she said snidely. Knives moved and picked up the board, his gaze not leaving her.

"You're a stupid little bitch." He spat angrily. Rhianne shrugged, a move that sent her again into the sand. She rose, a little shakily, to her feet, only to have Knives' foot collide with her chest.

She landed on her back, and jumped right up, squatting on the sand and leaning on her open-palmed hands on the sand. Knives walked over to her, covering her in his shadow. He watched until she rose to her feet again, and slapped her a final time. This time she didn't fall, but only moved her head, her body wanting to fall with the force of his blow but her mind refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fall again. Instead, as she slowly brought her head back into place, she launched herself at him, knocking the other plant to the sand. 

She was sitting atop his chest, holding his wrists at the sides of his head.

"Look you snobby little psychopath," she spat keeping a firm grip on his wrists "don't take your failures out on me. You had this coming." 

Then she kissed him.

It wasn't the best of kisses, as Rhianne had received quite a few, but it was pretty good nonetheless. Knives' mouth had been open to make some sort of snide remark, and she had taken advantage of the opportunity to explore his mouth a little, until he tried to bite her tongue. Then she pulled back and rolled off him, giving him room to get up. He stared at her, the quizzical look on his face priceless.

"What was that for?" he demanded. Rhianne shrugged "as I said, you had it coming." He stared, bewildered for a moment at her, then grabbed her around the waist and kissed her back. 

Rhianne pulled away, pushing on his shoulders with her hands, pushing him back. "What was that for?" she demanded, surprise evident in her voice. Knives just smiled devilishly and released his grip on her.

"You had it coming too" he grinned, then added, "you bitch." 


	12. Wounds Both Mental and Physical

Disclaimer: Disclaimers suck, Trigun isn't mine -_- 

Chapter Twelve: Wounds Both Physical and Mental

A/N: I just want to take a minute to thank all you guys for R&R-ing, it's what keeps me

going. And to those of you who haven't reviewed- why aren't you reviewing?? Anyway, I'd like to thank K-Chan especially, and of course, to Tempest Blue, who was my very first reviewer and came up with the name for my little ficcy. I would like to point out one final thing: I have an Escaflowne story that hasn't gotten a lot of reviews (does it suck? Wait.. no, don't tell me that) So if any of you like Escaflowne, please read my other story Thorns of The Fiery Rose, okay? Thanks and mucho love as always, LL ^_~ 

Rhianne munched happily on a piece of bread she had produced from her pack and was sitting calmly on the sand beneath the crimson sky of the setting sun. She bit absently into the bread, enjoying the soft texture and wishing she had some butter or something to eat it with. She chewed slowly, watching the suns disappear below the horizon, creating a rainbow of colors. Orange, red, crimson, purple and gold etched themselves seamlessly into the continually clear sky, bordered by the inky blackness that began to give way to the night. Rhianne took another bite of her bread, and a shadow flew overtop of her, accompanied by a loud, girlish scream.

Then Knives face-planted into the sand just before her.

His 'landing' threw a substantial amount of sand into the air, most of which landed on her bread. Knives pulled his head from the sand, grinning sheepishly at his female counterpart, who was glaring at him through her thick lashes angrily. 

"You killed my toast!!" she cried at him angrily. Knives stood, holding the board, and looked at her dubiously.

"First off…" he stated firmly "I can't kill it, it's an inanimate object, and second…." A long pause "it's not toast." He finished bluntly.

Rhianne stared up at him, and a strand of her hair fell in front of her eyes. Knives leaned forward and brushed it back, smiling kindly at her; he was taking a liking to this one. But much to his dismay, the action didn't provoke a happy reaction, as Rhianne slapped his hand away and glared at him.

"I was hungry, you know." She spat. Knives sighed "I'm sorry, okay?" he offered, hoping to make peace, but Rhianne wasn't up for it

"Look, Knives" Rhianne breathed out slowly "I'm not in a good mood right now, so why don't you haul your pretty-boy ass back up that hill and LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE????" 

The happy smile on Knives' face was whipped away like a leaf in the wind, and his face now sported a scowl. 

"Why you little bitch." he muttered, then his boot collided with her shoulder with a terrific cracking sound as the bones in Rhianne's arm ground together under the force of Knives' foot. She flew down onto the sand, landing on the same shoulder and emitting a wrenching sob as the bones popped out of place. Knives walked over to her, the corners of his mouth twisted up into a maniacal sneer. 

"That'll teach you to fuck with me, you worthless excuse for a Plant. And you call

yourself one of my kind." He sneered. The other plant rose on her good arm, glaring at him with tear-glossed eyes. 

"Just leave me alone, Knives. I'm not in the best of moods right now." Knives snorted "I could tell." She rose shakily to her feet and grappled feebly for the collar of his shirt.

"Don't mess with me, Knives, I'm warning you!" she cried weakly, looking as if she would collapse from the pain within the minute. Knives stared down at her, and the rage disappeared from his face; she looked so forlorn, the pain in her aqua eyes resembled Vash's too much; it hurt him to see a face so similar to his bakayarou brother. Ignoring Rhianne's protests, her scooped her up and sat cross-legged down on the ground, placing her in his lap.

"Knives, what are you-OW!! Don't move me like that! Why am I sitting in your lap? Hey, don't give me one of those looks! Quit doing that!! You stupid sonofabitch, I oughta-"

"Shut up." Knives cut her off. She looked at him, then weakly hit him upside the head. "Don't tell me what to do." She snapped waspishly. Knives turned to her, his patience wavering.

"Do you me to help you heal or not?" he snapped back, pushing gently down onto her dislocated shoulder to press his point. Rhianne threw her head back and screamed as white-hot pain shot through her body at his touch. 

"You bastard!" she shouted as soon as she unclenched her teeth. Knives blinked at her, oblivious to the pain she was trying to mentally throw at him. She squinted her eyes against the pain that surged through her body from the wound in her shoulder, and hardly noticed Knives wriggling around beneath her. She was in so much pain, and it was his entire fault, that stupid little-

"Aha!" Knives cried triumphantly, and he produced something, raising it up to the dying light so that Rhianne had to shield her eyes with her good hand, a maneuver that still pained her other shoulder. She squinted, wondering how the light seemed just as brilliant now, at twilight, then as it did at noon, when she realized what Knives was holding: his belt. Her eyes widened in horror as she squirmed around, trying in vain to wriggle out of his lap.

"No Knives, don't make me do anything, please…" she pleaded, so that he turned and looked down at her with those ice blue eyes that seemed to beautiful but so fearsome at the same time, his eyes not understanding what she was saying. 

"What is it now, girl?" he asked, sounding exasperated. Rhianne shot him a dirty look "you know damn well what I mean. You're not getting any, you sick twisted bastard." 

Knives still had no idea what she was talking about. Unless she was referring to what the vermin did to mate, and that meant…

"Ack!" Knives recoiled, causing Rhianne to fall from his lap to the sand, which caused another shriek to escape her lips. She glared at him "what was that for?" she demanded. Knives looked at her disgustedly.

"You thought I was going to…. What is the term…? 'Rape' you, didn't you?" he asked, the revulsion evident in his voice. Rhianne spat at him, missing his ear by a fraction of an inch. 

"Why else would you take off your belt?" she spat angrily. Knives sighed in annoyance "for this" then he shoved the belt into her mouth. His female counterpart began to choke on the leather, and finally managed to ask what the hell he thought he was doing. Knives sighed again, this girl was much more of a burden than he had originally thought, but he had to _try_ to gain her trust to sway her to his cause. He knew it could be done, he just had to be patient. 

"I'm going to pop your shoulder back into place." He stated finally "bite down on the belt and it'll be over soon.."

"Wait!" Rhianne shouted, the sound of her voice muffled by the belt "there's a needle and a vial of blue liquid in my bag, if you put one teaspoon into the needle, it should be enough to numb my shoulder and most of my upper arm. That way it won't hurt as much." Knives looked exasperated. 

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" he asked, placing her down on the sand and moving over to her bag, (holding his pants -_-) and beginning to rifle through it. 

"Well" the other plant started, leaning up on her good arm, wincing a little at the pain "I didn't know you were about to go butt-naked." Knives shot her a look over his shoulder as he closed her bag. 

"This (he motioned to his pants) isn't going butt-naked… He grinned "_this_ is." (down fangirls, down!!!)

"Ack!" Rhianne cried, bowing her head and closing her eyes so as not to see anything. She heard Knives rustle around and figured it was okay to look up, and found her assumption to be correct. "What was that for?" she demanded as he sat back down and sat her down again in his lap. He grinned devilishly.

"I… don't know." He stated wonderingly, sounding almost embarrassed "most likely to see what you'd do, but I'm not quite sure…" 

"Whatever." Rhianne snorted "let's just get this over with. Put the needle then… OW!! No, not there, _there_. Okay, now leave my shoulder alone for a few minutes… No, Knives, I'm not numb yet." 

She leaned her head back against Knives' shoulder, looking up at the darkening sky. The numbness was beginning to creep down her arm as she turned to him and smiled weakly. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He looked very serious. Rhianne giggled, trying to ignore the icy cold feeling coursing through her veins. He turned his head to her slightly "in a better mood, are we?" he asked quietly, looking back up at the sky and the stars making their marks on the ebony blanket spread over them. 

Rhianne sighed quietly and considered telling him why she was acting so weird… but decided against it. He didn't need to know yet. It would simply be a burden. She didn't want his pity, and she certainly didn't want to him to try to take advantage of it… she sighed, why did she have to make things so complicated like this? It really hadn't been her fault, but she still felt wholly responsible for the whole mess. She sighed again, letting her head loll back against Knives' shoulder. 

She hated to admit it, but she was starting to get some really strong feelings for that asshole. He was really sweet when he wasn't beating her up. She gazed down at herself and wondered if Knives had done any permanent damage. It was probably too early for anything serious to happen, but she still had to wonder. Her eyes turned skyward, searching for familiar constellations. She came upon the Winged Huntress, an angel who chased the demons through the sky, and her eyes welled with tears. She remembered sitting in her room on the Seeds ship, pointing out constellations and naming them with Corrin, her younger brother. He had always loved the Winged Goddess; he always told her that the woman who fought her battles in the darkness of space reminded him of her. Drew, one of the crew members, had taught them to find pictures in the stars, and told them stories of how the ancient peoples of Earth had each thought the stars represented something different; basically a different picture for each culture. Rhianne, less than a year old, had been fascinated to find out how diverse the Human race had been. All the different ethnic groups and religions, the different beliefs that were so different, but so very much the same.

~Flashback~ 

_A year old Rhianne sat at the window of the Main Deck of Seeds ship number 2, watching the stars cruise slowly by. She sighed contentedly, and heard someone enter the room. She continued to stare out at the stars, ignoring the person as they walked up behind her. _

"What are you looking at?_" it was Corrin. She turned her head to look at him, and smiled. Even though they were twins, Corrin looked nothing like his sister. His eyes were a deep mauve, his hair nearly white, he was slightly taller than her, a good few inches, and was wearing a pair of baggy black jeans and an off-white shirt, both of which draped over him loosely, as they were borrowed from Drew._

"Nothing really?"_ He sat down next to her on the steps next to her "_you've been acting really weird lately, what's up?_" his sister sighed, and her bob haircut vibrated slightly._

"Do you think people will like us when we're settled?_" she asked quietly. Corrin smiled warmly at her "_if the rest of the Humans are as nice and as accepting as the ones here on the Seeds ship, we'll be just fine_." Rhianne's gaze flitted from the stars before her to her brother._

"Do you promise_?" she asked uncertainly. He smiled, and draped his arms around her in a hug "_I promise Rhianne, and you'll always have me. That you can be sure of_."_

~End Flashback~

A tear fell from Rhianne's eye as she remembered her brother. He had promised to always be there for her… but he wasn't with her anymore. He had broken his promise, and had left her for a new home among the stars. She unsuccessfully tried to blink back her tears, but felt another fall from her watery aqua eyes. She gazed longingly up at the constellation of the Winged Huntress and a pang of sorrow hit heart like a drum.

~Flashback~

_Rhianne found herself sitting once again in the Main Deck of the ship, stating out into the vastness of space, her brother by her side. They stared into the black void ahead of them together, like the pioneers of old. They did that a lot; sitting in silence and watching the stars cruise slowly by as they headed for their destination. _

"Brother?_" the teenage-looking plant asked. Unlike the other two plants that had recently been born, the two siblings often addressed each other as 'brother' and 'sister'. They were always very impersonal with one another, save that one flaw in their speech; although the option to call each other by their given names was always open, he turned to her, not choosing to exercise that right to impersonality "_yes, dear sister?_" His sibling wetted her lips, a sign that she was thinking deeply on whatever it was she wanted to ask him._

"I'm having strange feelings for Drew, brother dear. I feel a strange, fluttery sensation in my chest. What is this I'm feeling?" _Her brother leaned back against the steps they were sitting on, and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking._

"My dear sister_" he started "_I do believe you've fallen in love." _His older sibling gasped a little, unsure of what to say._

*Don't say anything, sister dear. Love is something that even our complex minds cannot grasp the concepts of. We know when we feel it, yet not why or how.* _He paused, giving his sister time to chew his mental words. Then, clear as a bell inside his mind, came the reply:_

*Is being in love with someone bad, brother dear?*_ her mental voice uncertain of whether this was a safe question. Corrin smiled at her, not bothering to turn his head. She could sense his amusement at her question._

*Of course it isn't_.* Came the mental reply. *_Being in love is a perfectly normal feeling, and most people experience it at least once in their life_.* _

His sister sighed and leaned on his shoulder, creating a stronger emotional link between them. She was unsure of this new feeling, her brother realized. She was going through the stages of teenagerdom that every child does. But, because of their heritage, they weren't prepared to face the large mental problems that botched the surface of their lives. They hadn't gained enough experience to figure out how to deal with the emotions they were being dealt. Corrin had come to this realization not too long ago, when he had began to feel for a member of the Seeds crew, Marlene. That the reason Human children matured at a certain rate and only began to feel certain feelings around a particular age was that they stocked the information they experienced during their childhood and made use of it during their teenage year; an advantage to life the plant children were denied. That's why one of the children on the other Seeds ships showed a large amount of hostility towards the crew. He had been beaten by a crewmember, and had always seemed fine, but gave a standoffish vibe when not around his brother, a lively young plant named Vash. Corrin had obtained this information by listening to the crew's talking while he was preparing one of the plants while his sister played with Drew. 

He ruffled his sister's hair and smiled at her. 

"Don't worry. Remember what mom said before she died? 'Always let people know how you feel, or they'll take advantage of you.' Maybe we should listen to her advice, ne?_" Rhianne sighed._

"I miss mom_." She stated sadly, squeezing her brother's waist in a fierce hug. _

"I do too, but she was malfunctioning, and knew it. She did the noble thing, and saved us all_." _

"I know that Corrin,_" she started, deciding to be _impersonal "but I wish I could talk to her about these feelings._" Her brother hugged her again "_you always have me_," he promised "_I'll always be here."

__

~End Flashback~

Rhianne sighed quietly and looked up at the glimmering stars overhead.

"No, Dear Brother, you won't." she mumbled.


	13. Her Sibling's Story

Disclaimer: For the thirteenth time, I don't own Trigun

Chapter Thirteen:

"What did you say?" Knives asked quietly, turning his head to face her. Rhianne wetted her lips and sniffled a little. "I miss my mother and brother." She stated, closing her eyes, and Knives felt her tears fall onto his shirt. 

"What happened to them?" Knives asked her. She sighed, shuddering against the chill of the night.

"My mother died before I was two years old. She was beginning to malfunction, and knew that she would explode, so she had herself shipped out into space on a little carrier ship and exploded in the darkness of space, all alone. Just to save us. She often told my brother Corrin and I that we always had to speak our minds and stand up for what we believed in, or people would try to manipulate us and use our powers against our will. She was beautiful. She had wonderfully pale hair, almost an iridescent white, and the most wondrous wings I have yet to see on a Plant Angel. They were a good two times her size, and shone with all the colors of the rainbow inside of her bulb. I miss her so much, but not as much as Corrin.

"Corrin Nicholas Mitchell De LaTour, simply Corrin to me, was removed two minutes after me, and looked nothing like me. He had the deepest mauve eyes, the like of which I have yet to see in either plant or human. In the end, he was an inch or so taller than me, and never let me forget it. He had a small mole next to his left eye, opposite to the one I have next to my right eye. All the firstborn plant children had the same type of birthmarks. You have one next to your right eye, and your brother has one next to his left. I have a small mole next to my right eye as well, as did Aeris and Andan. It was a sign that we were the first of our race, the beginning of a bold new era in history. Corrin had something else opposite to myself as well…" she ran her fingers through Knives' hair longingly "his hair was just like yours.

"Corrin and I grew up on the Seeds ship number two; yours was the third, by the way. We were always close, and I loved him dearly. We were placed in the same home when the humans had settled on the planet, and we were very happy. I had my brother, and that was all that mattered. 

"Eventually my brother and I moved out and lived in separate houses, Corrin married a young woman named Vanessa Smitheson, and raised a family. I, on the other hand, joined the Space program, and never married. I fell in and out of love, but never anything permanent. I was too busy training for a marriage like my brother had.

"Anyways, there was another colony on the moon, called Isis, that circled the planet, and a war erupted between the moon and my planet."

"Why?" Knives interrupted. Rhianne shot him a look "one thing at a time. If I get off topic I'll never finish my story." Knives nodded, urging her to continue.

"As I was saying, a was erupted between the two colonies, and before long, we were at war. Now there's never been a worldwide war here on Gunsmoke, and you're lucky. Worldwide wars are killer, trust me, I read up on all three that the humans had while on Earth. The third was the most devastating, and not only nearly wiped out the entire race, but it caused a lot of the pollution that was the cause for Project Seeds. But that final war was a fistfight compared to the war between Isis and my planet. It lasted five years, and in two years into those five, my brother died.

" Because of his heritage, my brother was a prime candidate for the army, and was sent to the frontlines where he stayed until his death. He was on a carrier ship, getting some rest after a particularly long and arduous battle, when a traitorous plant named Bryce Hoy planted a bomb on the ship, killing the five hundred crewmembers as well as the thousands of soldiers aboard. Of the six thousand that were on that ship- the Carpathia III, it was called- only two hundred and sixteen survived. My brother wasn't one of those people." Rhianne paused and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

"I remember the very last time I saw Corrin alive. Every detail is etched into the stone that is my mind forever, and if still haunts me to this day.

"It was at the New Topeka Launch Site, on August twelfth, Colony Year 147. I was wearing a long purple dress, and I had my hair cut short, up to my chin, and had put little ringlets in it. Vanessa Smitheson De LaTour, his wife, stood next to me, the hand of their six-year-old clasped tightly in hers. That little girl, my niece, Mary Anne De LaTour, never saw her daddy again, and the little boy Vanessa held in her arms, Adrian De LaTour, would never remember his father. 

"Vanessa was wearing a cream suitdress; she was a lawyer, with her long blonde hair hanging straight down her back and her mascara running down her cheeks with her tears. Mary Anne was wearing a little pink dress with her hair in pigtails. Adrian was dressed in a little pair of overalls and a white shirt.

"My brother Corrin was dressed in his uniform, a maroon one similar to the one I'm wearing. He had his suitcase in his hand, the one I'd bought for him for the previous Christmas, and sported a large lipstick spot on his cheek where Vanessa had kissed him a moment earlier. He seemed to glow that day, completely confident in his abilities and with his love for us. I'll always remember his hair the most, how it glowed around his head like a halo under the bright lights of the Station. I also remember I didn't cry until I hugged him. I tried to be brave and sound sure of myself when Vanessa, who is still like a sister to me, was so insecure, but I couldn't. Not in the face of such strenuous emotions like the once we all faces that day. 

"But as I gave my brother a hug, wrapping my arms around his neck for the last time, smelling the scent I had grown up with: the smell of the field, of wheat and grass and water and rain and a thousand things I can't name to this day. He smelled outside; he smelled like heaven; he smelled like life; he smelled like my brother. And I knew the instant that smell reached me that I would never smell it again. I would never be able to talk to him, to give him advice when his marriage got rocky, to cry with, to tell my feelings and thoughts to. No one would ever understand me the way he did, and no one would understand him the way I did ever again. And poor Vanessa would never get that third child they had been hoping for; she miscarried two days after hearing of my brother's death. I knew that Corrin wouldn't come back, and as I wrapped my arms around his neck a final time, I whispered it in his ear. I told him 'you won't come back, will you?' and I felt him shake his head beneath my arms. He knew all along that it wasn't wise to go. But he did it anyway, for our planet, for the thousands of people that lay slain, for the thousands more that would die in the years to come, for Vanessa, for his children, and most of all, he whispered, for me. He did it to keep me safe. And I knew that Corrin had been married, had granted his wife children, had loved her with every fiber of his being, and yet he still loved me more. No one was closer to him than me, and no one was closer to me than him. He died for me, Knives. He died to keep me safe. And I miss him every second of every day with my whole heart. Because you can't buy love like that. There's an old saying that goes: you can choose your friends, but not your family. I never understood that statement, because I figured, with Corrin as my brother, why would I want to be able to choose my family if I already had the most wonderful brother in the world?" 

She lapsed into silence, breaking it only with the occasional loud sob. 

With Rhianne still leaning on his shoulder, Knives leaned back on he open palms of his hands on the sand and watched the moons begin to make their way through the black velvet sky. 

He thought of her words, and thought of Vash, and his promise to keep his idiot twin safe. She had said that her brother had gone to war to protect her, and he couldn't help but wonder if he would do the same for his noodle-noggin of a brother. That baka wouldn't let him anyway. Vash hated fighting. Well, that wasn't true. His twin didn't mind fighting, just he wouldn't take a life, and he had forced him to. No wonder Vash hated him.

*_He doesn't hate you.*_ Rhianne's voice echoed in his head *_sorry, I accidentally picked up on your thoughts. Look, if Vash didn't love you, then he would have killed you in your battle, wouldn't he?*_ Knives glared at her out of the corner of his eye "were you reading my thoughts?" he asked warily. Rhianne looked at him with wide eyes.

"Why Knives, I'm appalled you would think I would stoop to such a level. Because I'm so close to you, I'm having trouble _not_ picking up on your thoughts, and the battle I picked up on was too strong to ignore. I'm sorry." Knives shifted his weight and put her on the sand, moving away from her.

"Now I can keep my thoughts to myself." He said with annoyance. Rhianne rolled her eyes and turned away from him, leaning on her good arm and waiting for her arm to numb completely. 

Knives, meanwhile, went back to his thoughts, and took into consideration what the girl had said. That had to mean that Vash still cared for him. If he hadn't, wouldn't he have killed him? Knives felt a swell of pride in his chest at that thought. But then he remembered the promise Vash made to Rem, and his pride was dashed. The only reason that Vash had left him alive was that he had made that stupid promise to Rem, of that he was certain. 

__

I don't understand that idiot. Knives thought to himself_ I try and I try and I try, but nothing works out. All I want is to keep my twin safe from the vermin and create our Eden, but he doesn't understand. What is keeping him from seeing the truth? Hah, that's a stupid question, its Rem that clouds his vision. That stupid pacifist bitch and her idiotic theories of love and peace. Can't Vash understand that as long as the vermin exist, there would be no 'Love and Peace'? He's such a bakayarou. He just doesn't get it. He thwarts everything I try to do, never realizing that I do it for him. Why is it…_

"Why is it that my wishes never come true?" Knives asked aloud. Rhianne rolled over partially "because your wishes are selfish, Knives. That's why." Then rolled back over. In an instant, she was rolled onto her back with Knives over her, glaring down at her.

"How am I selfish?" he demanded angrily, glaring down into her aqua eyes. The other plant squirmed beneath him a little, unsure of what to say.

"Because you don't take what other people want into consideration. That's why you're selfish. You want everything done your way, or you have a hissy fit. You act like a little child- OW!!!" Knives had pushed down onto her dislocated shoulder, which wasn't totally numbed.

"You are not one to talk," Knives spat back "you act like you have the maturity of a human!" 

"Hah! That's good! My human niece was eight and was more mature than you! She knew that pissing and moaning and threatening people wasn't going to get her any respect! You should take a good look at those you loath Knives, you could learn a lot from them." She cried out again as he ground the bones together beneath his hand. He turned his palm slightly, pulling at the skin of her shoulder and causing her emit a shriek that echoed into the descending darkness of the desert. 

"That's enough of your bullshit." He hissed, moving back and letting her sit up, clutching her shoulder and wincing in pain. 

"I think it's numbed as much as it's gonna." She stated, then tried to maneuver her arm by herself, only resulting in another cry that probably reached the closest city. Wordlessly, Knives reached over and grabbed his belt from the sand and shoved it in her mouth.

"Just bite down until I say to stop, or I'll never be able to hear again." He smiled, then turned grim as he took her arm and moved it slightly, causing Rhianne to bite down onto the belt with such ferocity that when Knives got the belt back later, there would be permanent teeth marks in the leather. Rhianne felt a ferocious pop in her shoulder, and bit even harder into the leather. 

"Oooowwww…" she moaned, then fell unconscious, her head felling into Knives' lap. He looked down at the position of her head and blushed, and then lay her back against the sand. He lay next to her for a long while, not wanting to disturb her. 

He stared up at the stars and watched the moons drift lazily across the ebony sky, and placed a gentle hand on Rhianne's forehead to make sure the chilly desert air wasn't getting to her. Upon doing this, Knives felt a small jolt run through his fingers, accompanied by a small cinema of a young man of no more than twenty.

He was standing atop a mound of something that looked unrealistically white, his pale blond hair puffing out from beneath a large woolen hat. He smiled, squinting his mauve eyes that shined with childish delight. He was wearing a large bulky blue jacket, and wore red mittens over his hands. He wore black pants, seemingly hastily shoved into large, think boots. And with good reason too, Knives could feel the bitter chill of the air that seemed to freeze the marrow in his bones. He shivered in the dream, and watched as the young man bent down and scooped up a large amount of snow, compacting it together so that it didn't fall apart, then wound up, and threw it at him. He heard Rhianne's agitated voice cry out "Corrin!" and realized that she must be dreaming of her brother. The dream then faded to another, much more heartfelt scene.

He was in a large white building, spotless down to the dustless air that circulated and smelled pleasantly of lemons. He was gazing sorrowfully at the same young man, dressed in a form-fitting maroon sweater and loose pants, an outfit that resembled very vaguely that of his companion. He looked like an angel, his hair wafting around his head in the well-ventilated room that was filled with other tearful groups. He shifted, and felt a smooth fabric slide over his body. He marveled at being able to appreciate the nice shape of Rhianne's body, then returned his attention to a woman with long blonde hair was entangled in his arms, a small child with pale blond hair similar to her fathers in small pigtails and dressed in a little pink dress, a small baby boy clutched in her chubby little arms. The woman pulled slowly back from the man Knives assumed to be Corrin, and then pushed herself back into his arms again, sobbing loudly. His vision swam with tears that he refused to shed as the woman finally pulled back and walked slowly backwards, picking up the little boy and snatching the little girl's hand in a liquid motion that was obviously often practiced. Knives then felt himself move swiftly foreword and throw himself into the young man's arms. The sensation reminded him strongly of Legato, but he had little time to think of his former right hand man at the moment. He smelled the scent Rhianne had described, and became lost in it both in the dream and in real life. He smelled heavenly, like his sibling, Knives realized. But now wasn't the time nor the place to think of her like that. He felt his lips move and head Rhianne's voice say "you're not going to come back, are you Brother Dear?" he shuddered in Corrin's arms, and felt him shake his head beneath Rhianne's arms. 

*No, I don't believe I will.* he stated sadly, his mental voice like crystal in her mind *I want you to know that I love you, and that's why I'm going off to fight. I have a family here, but you're my real family, and I love you more than anyone in the whole world.* With that mental statement, Corrin pulled himself from his sister's arms and walked slowly away into the docking bay, and Knives felt Rhianne realize that she would never see her brother again. 

Knives pulled his hand back from Rhianne's forehead, and a pang of pity struck his heart for perhaps the first time in his entire life. The only other time he had felt pity was for Vash, when he had been beaten by Steve back on the Seeds ship so long ago and didn't know how to handle it. Back then Knives had felt rage towards the humans for making Vash hurt, but with Rhianne he felt nothing but pure pity for the girl. He wasn't sure of what he would do if Vash were to die. He would avenge his brother's death by wiping out the vermin, that was certain, but would he feel the same way she had? They must have been especially close, for her to feel so strongly. Pity swelled in his heart for her… and brushed some of her hair away from her forehead. He smiled at her, and to his surprise, Rhianne opened her eyes and smiled back at him tiredly. 

"Don't pity me Knives" she started, snatching his hand in midair "I don't need anybody else's pity. I can handle it all on my own. I have for a long time now." She left go of his hand and moved closer, so that her body was right next to his, and put his arm around her waist. 

"What are you doing?" he demanded uncomfortably, trying to move away "I'm cold, and you're warm." Knives turned several shades of red that he hoped Rhianne couldn't see for the dark, but didn't try to move away again. 

"I have a question." He stated. Rhianne turned to him beneath the moonlight "oh, the Omnipotent One has a question? Well, fire away." Knives allowed her to snuggle closer, not bothering to mention that she seemed warm enough without him. 

"What is it like to loose someone close to you?" Rhianne sighed quietly, and Knives thought he heard her sob, but she answered nonetheless "it's like having someone shoot you. I can't describe it any other way. When I heard Corrin died, I felt like someone had shot me through the heart and the wound tries to heal itself, but it can't. There's something that died in me that day, and I haven't been the same since."

"Why are you still so sad?" he prodded "he didn't seem unhappy to be dying for you, so why are you still so sad?" Beneath his arm, Rhianne shuddered.

"Because something happened to me after he died, and I don't think he's very proud of what I did." Knives made a raspberry and squeezed her tightly.

"I saw the look in his eyes in your memories, and I know that you've made him much more proud than anyone else could ever do." Rhianne stared at him for a moment, then leaned closer and kissed his cheek "that was sweet, thank you." Much to her surprise and to Knives' he found himself leaning over and kissing her back.

"You're welcome." He stated. Rhianne gazed at him for a moment, her eyes wide with surprise, trying to grapple with just why Knives had done that, then decided that there was a time and place for things like that, and now was not the time. So she lay her head on Knives' strong chest, and they watched the heavens dance above them, the Winged Goddess chasing the Demons across the velvety sky above them.


	14. Emotions and Admittance

Disclaimer: Trigun isn't mine, unfortunately. 

A/N: Once again, thanks to everyone for reviewing! I want to take this opportunity to answer Sabina of the Closet Weirdos, who reviewed and asked if all this comes out of the top of my head or I have it all written down: The chapters are written the same day they're posted. I used to have a few pre-written, but posted them and caught up with myself. I simply pour out my thoughts and work out the kinks, then post. I have a few solid ideas in mind, but most of the stuff is random spillage from my mind. I hope this answers your question, and thanks for reading all of you!!

Chapter Fourteen: Emotions and Admittance

Knives stared up at the heavens, Rhianne's head resting on his chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath he took. She wasn't facing him, and he took the opportunity to let his hands run over her silky hair. He lifted his head up a little, then moved his arm under it so that he could see her better. His fingers followed the flow of her hair until it came to a hair band that held together the loose ponytail she had sported since he had met her. His fingers played with the elastic for a moment, then he slid his fingers though a space between it and her hair, and gently pulled it out, letting her long strands fall onto his chest. He picked up a small amount and twirled it between his fingers, marveling at the way it shimmered in the moonlight.

*_Knives, what are you doing?*_ Rhianne's mental voice inquired as he continued to run his hands through her hair. 

"Nothing much…" the male plant trailed off. He wound the small clump of hair around his finger, then let go and watched as the tendrils of hair fell, now curled slightly. He smiled lightly at the back of her head, hoping she wouldn't turn around. He didn't need for her to see him feeling like this. He didn't even want to admit it to himself, but he was beginning to feel something for her.

It was the strangest feeling. When he looked at her, he got a strange, warm feeling in his chest, kind of like his heart was on fire. He felt strange, and he didn't want to be anywhere else but next to her. He had never felt this way about anyone else. Ever. Vash was his brother, yes, but he was just…_Vash_. He was Vash, not Rhianne. And that made all the difference in the world. Or did it? He realized that the way he felt about Rhianne was very similar to the way she felt about her brother, Corrin. Was this what the humans called 'love'? It couldn't be, not if he felt similar feelings about the female plant that she felt for her sibling. Or was it simply because Corrin had been Rhianne's brother had been family…? Knives shook his head; emotions were confusing things.

*_Not really* _Rhianne's mental voice chided him *_Emotions are only confusing if you allow them to be. As long as you come to grips with reality and keep a balance between your heart and your head, emotions really aren't that tough to handle.*_ He glared at the back of her head "reading my thoughts, were we?" he asked icily. Rhianne turned around, her spilling her chestnut hair, now looking silvery beneath the light of the moons, over his chest, and looked at him with her innocent aqua eyes "of course not. You're radiating your thoughts." She shifted her head slightly, gazing into his eyes, nearly white under the starlight.

"Why do you doubt me, Knives?" she asked sadly, sensing the mistrust he felt. Knives blinked at her for a moment, pondering the question himself. He had never really trusted anyone before, now that he thought of it, and Rhianne wasn't an exception. She was simply Rhianne. Nothing more, nothing less… or so he wanted to think. Deep down inside, in the pit of his stomach, Knives knew he was simply fooling himself. He felt for her and… certainly not. He couldn't… shouldn't…_wouldn't_ fall in love with her. He had better things to do than to gaze all goggle-eyed at her like his brother did at any thing with breasts. While thinking this, his eyes absently traveled down to Rhianne's chest… and Knives found he couldn't look away… A_rgh! I'm winding up just like that baka-headed brother of mine!_ Knives thought sullenly, trying to tear his eyes from Rhianne's cleavage, which was pushed up because she was leaning on him and looked so…

"Ack!" Knives thought suddenly, closing his eyes and forcing his head to lean back. What was wrong with what he had just done? He was turning into some kind of disgusting creature who only saw people for their outer appearance, someone who was so drawn to certain aspects of a woman's body… a human. He was becoming shallow, just like every man and woman on this godforsaken planet who never got to know the real people inside. All the vermin saw was looks, looks, looks. Nothing more, nothing less. He paused for a moment and wondered if the vermin on Rhianne's planet were concerned only with their looks, but decided against it. He really wanted to be alone with his thoughts right now, he told himself. 

_Is that what you really want?_ An unseen voice chided him in his head. Knives heard an echo of the voice, and realized that it was Vash's voice echoing in his mind. _Do you want to alienate yourself from her, like you did to me? Don't you want a stab at romance Knives? Just one try? "_No… no I most certainly do not" Knives spat back, unaware that he was having a fight with himself "she would just get in my way." _Are you sure? She could change your whole perspective on life. _"My perspective doesn't need adjusting in the least." The plant spat back at the voice in his head.

_Why can't you just admit you have feelings like everyone else? _Vash's voice cried angrily in his mind "because" Knives stated slowly "I'm not like everyone else. I am Millions Knives, the most feared being on this planet and the leader of the Vermin Genocide. I have no need for petty things like emotions."

_Fine then… I don't care._ Vash's voice faded away into nothingness, leaving Knives alone with his thoughts once more. Where did that strange voice come from, he wondered. It had been happening a lot lately. It simply urged him to do things, then argued with him if he didn't do as he was told. Idly, Knives wondered if Vash was speaking to him psychically like they had done as children. But he hadn't done that since he had asked his twin to help him eliminate the vermin. He had been cut off from his brother since that day, save the three times he had seen Vash and the two months he had spent living with his sibling while he healed. And even then Vash was hesitant to even speak to him verbally.

"Do you miss your brother?" Rhianne's voice interjected his train of thought. Knives looked down a her, making sure to keep his gaze above her neck "what?" he asked, being so involved in his thoughts that he had hardly been aware of the girl's voice. The female plant sighed and repeated herself.

"Of course not!" Knives spat loudly, his voice echoing across the desert "I've never missed that bakayarou one single day since he ran off!" Rhianne shook her head slightly "that's not what I picked up." She stated. Knives shot up, throwing Rhianne from his chest.

"You little bitch!" he roared "how dare you read my private thoughts! You have no right to read ANYTHING that passes through my mind, do I make myself clear?" His female counterpart stood, her eyes blazing "do you think I WANT to read your thoughts? Are you that arrogant that you think I like being able to pick up on your worthless, selfish ranting?! Hell no! I'd rather you keep your thoughts to yourself, but you haven't seemed to figure out how to keep things to yourself, have you? Aw, fuck no. That would make everything easier!" She stormed off, over the other side of the dune, plunking down into the moonlit sand. She stretched her arms out so that the insides of her elbows rested on her knees, and pressed her head down onto her clothed skin.

What was his problem? She thought angrily. All she was doing was trying to initiate conversation, and he flipped out like that. It wasn't her fault she could pick up people's thoughts, and Knives almost literally reeked of his thoughts, it was a surprise that the humans couldn't pick up them! Rhianne closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Why had she stormed off like that? Now it would take forever to make up with Knives. Another sigh escaped her parted lips.

She was no dummy, she had admitted to her feelings for Knives soon after they had flared up inside her. She knew falling for him probably wasn't the right thing to do, but she really had no choice in the matter, now did she? No, of course not. Even as a member of a superior race, she still had no control over her emotions. It wasn't like she could just instantly hate Knives overnight, things simply weren't that easy. And, although she didn't want to admit it, she didn't want to have to hate Knives anyway. He wasn't _that_ bad sometimes. Hadn't he just tried to comfort her, after all? 

Rhianne sighed. She had been wrong, emotions _were_ oftentimes confusing, and very annoying sometimes. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the dune, Knives was in a fierce war between himself and that strange voice.

…_what do you mean? 'I can't stand her'? You adore being around her! She makes you want to give up your genocide plans simply because she disagrees with the idea. That has to mean something! _No, not it doesn't. She is nothing but nuisance who will be exterminated along with the vermin. _You wouldn't do that._ Who's going to stop me? _Either her, or your heart. You can't lie to yourself forever. It's inevitable. Now, just go over there, wrap your arms around her shoulders, and say you're-_

"I AM NOT SORRY!" Knives shouted loudly, suddenly aware that he had yelled that out for no apparent reason. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He seemed to have silenced the voice… for now. 

"You should be!" Rhianne's voice floated over the side of the dune. Knives turned around, expecting to see her standing atop the hill, but instead found that she had simply shouted her retort over. 

Rhianne had her eyes closed, so she hadn't seen Knives' shadow approaching her, but she heard the crunch of the sand beneath his feet, and already knew what was going to happen by the time he had reached her. And her theory proved to be correct. 

Within a moment, she fad flown a good few feet and landed limply into the sand. She squinted her eyes shut, hoping to keep out the grains of sand as Knives turned her onto her back and grabbed her wrists, glowering down at her.

"What is your problem?" he demanded loudly. Rhianne shook her head to dislodge some of the sand, then glared up at him.

"What do you mean 'my problem'? You're the one with the problem here Knives, not me." Within a second of the words leaving her mouth, she felt the sting of Knives' hand across her cheek.

"You will not speak to me that way!" he shouted down at her, raining spittle on her face as he spoke. Rhianne glared up at him, unsure of what to say. So instead of retorting and potentially worsening the situation, she arched her back, lifted her legs, and bucked Knives from on top of her.

She rolled a few yards away and jumped to her feet, watching as Knives did the same. They stood hat way for a moment, neither moving, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Then, simultaneously, they both lunged at the other.

Rhianne dove for his knees, Knives for her waist. He flew just above her, so the Rhianne grabbed his foot as she landed, pulling on it slightly to get herself on her feet, then dove at Knives, who was still dazed on the sand. She landed on his chest, knocking the breath out of him.

"You arrogant fool. You can't even admit to your own feelings." She spat, then gave him a swift kiss on the lips, and jumped back up "I'm going back to your ship. Let me know if you decide to grow up." That said, she began to walk briskly up the hill.

"Hold on" Knives stated, grabbing her around the waist "if you dislike me so much, then why don't you go live with the vermin you love so dear?" Rhianne wrapped her arm around his neck, pulled him in, and placed a passionate kiss on his lips. 

"Because I don't love the humans Knives, I love you." 


	15. He Made His Choice

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Trigun, cuz then I wouldn't have to write fanfics, I could simply write the script and put this in the plot but nnnnnnooooooooooo… -_-

Chapter Fifteen: …He Made His Choice

Rhianne released her grip on Knives' lips and stalked up the hill, leaving him, bewildered, at the base of the dune. She crested the swell of the hill, and Knives was next to her before she had reached the bottom. He grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, stopping her from going any further. He moved in front of her, locking his gaze with hers.

"What did you say just now?" he asked warily, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what she had to say. Rhianne leaned in and tried to kiss him, but Knives recoiled "no kisses, tell me what you said." He stated. Rhianne looked deep into his icy eyes, and thought for a moment, she saw a hint of glee in them, but it was fleeting, and her gaze was met again with the icy bitterness that so often consumed them.

"I said I love you Knives." She stated softly. The male plant blinked for a moment, and she thought that she saw that same glee flicker in his eyes. He was obviously trying to grapple with her words, trying to figure out how she could come to terms with something that major… how he could come to terms with the fact that someone loved him. 

"How do you know that?" he asked hesitantly, hoping that she would say something annoying to put a stop to the mess they were entangled in. Rhianne rolled her eyes, temporarily breaking the eye contact Knives had been trying to initiate. He had learned that you could tell a lot of what people were thinking from looking into their eyes, and had to be certain this girl knew what she was talking about before she went around blurting it out.

"Because I do." She stated simply. There was no hesitation, save for the rolling of her eyes. And Knives felt a little black hole of nervousness begin to form in his stomach. She must be bluffing, he concluded, that was the only possible answer. She was trying to get him riled up and manipulate him to do whatever she wanted. But… what could she manipulate him to do? She had already made it clear she wanted to stay, so what motive could possibly be behind her lies? Knives felt the urge to tear out his hair in frustration, but wouldn't expose his weakness to her. 

"How do you determine you feel this way?" he spat, his features stony "you have to have a certain basis for everything, and love is not something you can identify. So how do you figure?" Rhianne shook her head, avoiding Knives' piercing gaze that seemed to stare right into her heart.

"I don't know…" she admitted quietly. A grin of triumph smeared itself across Knives' face "then you have nothing to prove that theory." He spat smugly. He had her cornered. There was no way she could weasel out of this. He smiled smugly as Rhianne tore her wrist from his grasp and shook her head at him.

"It figures." She said, then attempted to brush by him. Knives snatched her upper arm and pulled her forcefully backwards 

"What figures?" he demanded "what is it? Can't you grasp the concept that you're wrong? Are you that much like the vermin that you have to force your beliefs on others?" Rhianne's eyes narrowed angrily, "No Knives, because then I'd be like you." She snarled, and she used her free hand to deliver a slap to his right cheek, leaving a mark that looked grayish under the moonlight. Knives drew in a deep breath, and his eyes began to glow. Using his other hand, he snatched the back of Rhianne's head pushed her towards him, smashing their lips together. He tightened his grip on her hair, then pulled her violently back, tearing their lips away from each other.

"There" he snarled, pulling on her hair violently "is that what you call 'love'? Two people's lips being forced together? Is that a philosophy that you picked up from the vermin? Eh? Did those worthless little insects teach you that? Well I have a question for you: if two people kissing means they're in love, then why are the vermin such a destructive race? Shouldn't they be falling over themselves for their 'loved ones', instead of polluting the planet and killing our family?" he demanded, giving a final yank on her hair for emphasis. He released his grip on her scalp, and pushed her backwards.

Rhianne stumbled backwards, falling into the sand at the force of the other plant's shove. She glared up at him, the man who, even though he lived on a planet filled with light, was so full of darkness. He looked like a demon, with his fiercely glowing eyes and black silhouette, outlined by the silver moonlight. 

"No Knives, the humans taught me next-to-nothing about life." She stated waspishly, rising to her feet and meeting Knives' glowing eyes "and about your stupid theory, it's wrong. Dead. Fucking. Wrong. Do you know why people go to war, Knives? It's to protect those they love. But war is also started to protect people that are loved. I can't prove that I love you, but you can't prove that I don't. Love isn't something you can simply slap a price tag on, or give away whenever you feel like it. It's something you can take away, and something you can give to those people lucky to receive it. You can't help the way you feel; it's just… there. You feel that way. 'Nuff said. So if you want me to prove that I love you, I can't. You have two choices: you can either accept my love for you and live with it, or chose to push yourself away from me and I'll leave. Make up your mind." She finished icily.

Knives stared at her, his feelings covered by the mask of placidness that he forced his features to sport. But inside, beneath the calm exterior, he was tearing himself apart. 

His mind told him to take the second option, to cast her away and continue with his genocide plans; that she would only prove to be an obstacle and a burden. That if he let her stay he would succumb to his strange feelings and to the voice that plagued him, and he would fail in his plans. That he would choose her over the life of his siblings, simply because she would become the most important thing to him, and would mean more than life itself to him, and he would be betraying himself if he let her into his heart. He would be failing his sisters and his brother, who he had always promised to keep safe from the scum that walked his planet. He would find supreme happiness, but would pay the ultimate price for it. He would find love, but he would be ignoring his cause for living if he did. She would be his companion, but he would loose the respect of his sisters, and his own respect for himself if he did. It spoke fiercely, convincingly, that he would find love, but he would never be truly happy.

The second part, his heart, the weaker party, tried to sway him to let her stay. It promised him that it would be worth it; that living with her would change his whole perspective on how things were. It guaranteed that his life would feel complete with her, and empty without her, and that he was only killing himself from the inside if her let her go. It showed him of how things could be, him and her together forever, like gods ruling over his Eden. That she would fill the gaping void that Vash had left in his heart when he refused to side with him. She would heal the scars made by all those who had torn at his heart and mind and had poisoned his soul. She would prove that he wasn't a merciless killer who cared only for himself, but a true person who was capable of loving, and being loved in return. It promised a future in which Knives would never be lonely, one in which he wouldn't have to live the next eighty or so years of his life in his ship alone because of his promise to Vash to stay relatively quiet until his friends had died. It spoke to him with word of wisdom, stating that he couldn't ignore his feelings forever, and if he let her go, he would regret it until he found her again and told her the truth. It promised love.

Knives, of course, chose to listen to his stubborn head. Love was for weak creatures that used it only as an excuse to create war and destruction or to get out of it. He waved a hand lazily, that confirmed Rhianne's fear.

"Go, then. Take your things and leave me alone. I have better things to do than baby-sit a love-sick little girl." 

Tears welled up in Rhianne's eyes and she allowed them to splash over her reddened cheeks. They glistened like gems sliding down her face in the moonlight. She closed her eyes and held back a loud sob. She knew he was going to say that, she just knew it. But she had let it on herself, and now she had to deal with the consequences. Her hands balled into fists at her sides and she bit her lip until it bled to keep from begging him to let her stay. She had given the option, and he had taken it. It was her fault. She leaned down and picked up her backpack, not letting Knives' eyes catch hers. She shifted the straps into place on her shoulders with a sniffle, and reluctantly pulled her eyes to meet with Knives'. She looked straight into his ice blue irises, and felt more tears spill from her lids. Their eyes met, and Rhianne wished with all her heart that she could pull her eyes away from his and walk into the desert and leave him behind. But both her heart and her head told her it wasn't possible. She reached out, attempting to pull Knives into a final embrace, but he pulled back, as if the thought of touching her repulsed him. He recoiled as if her touch might burn him… or make him see the truth. Rhianne sighed heavily and picked up her board. She handed it to Knives, her eyes shiny with tears. He pushed it back to her "I want nothing of yours" he stated in an icy tone that made Rhianne want to cling to him and make him see how much she felt for him. But instead, she took her board under her arm and turned around, feeling the daggers Knives was staring into her back and forced them to slide off her like water on glass.

"Goodbye Knives." She stated in a tear-choked voice "I love you." With that said, she walked over the hill and out of sight, leaving Knives to himself, a lone figure beneath the pale light of the moons, beckoning towards a new morning. A new morning without her smile; a new morning without her laughter; a new morning alone; a new morning without the woman he loved.


	16. And While She Walked Away

Disclaimer: The Sweet Sixteenth Disclaimer: Donna own Trigun

Chapter Sixteen: And While She Walked Away…

The moons drifted away into the morning sky as Rhianne trudged along, the golden light of the rising suns catching her hair and playing with the colors of her locks as she stalked sullenly along. The skyline was laced with a brilliant, almost blinding gold that faded into the yellows and light oranges of the early morning light, giving way to the sapphire blue of the eternally blue sky that hung over the sand that billowed over the planet's surface. Tears fell from her eyes and stained her path in that sand, soon to be washed away either by the ever present breeze or by the thirsty light of the suns. Her cheeks still bore the redness that had come with Knives' slap an hour or so earlier. It pained her, and oddly enough, she wished it would never face away. The mark was all she had left of him, save her memories, and she really hadn't attained any of him she really wanted to remember. 

More tears made her vision swim as she thought again of Knives. Why had he cast her off? Couldn't he see that she truly felt for him?

_It's your own fault,_ she mentally chided herself_ you gave him the opportunity, and he simply took advantage of it. You brought this on yourself, and if you didn't want him to tell you to go, then you shouldn't have given him that option._ Tears still fell unchecked from Rhianne's eyes and she swatted them away with the back of her hand.

It as her fault, as much as she hated to admit it. But if she regretted it so sorely, then why had she done it in the first place? And why had Knives told her to leave? Foolish pride on both their parts, most likely. She had figured he'd be man enough to understand how she felt, and accept it, and he had been to stubborn to admit that he might have eventually begun to feel for her as well. But, she had been let down and he had brushed her off, leaving her stranded in the middle of the ocean that was her emotions.

But the big question remained: if she had known all along that leaving Knives would hurt her, and he had obviously known this as well, why had she still supplied him with the means to get rid of her? She bit her lips refusing to let a loud sob break between them. She had brought this on herself, and she was going to have to cope with it. 

_Why am I putting myself through this?_ She asked herself sadly. But the plant already knew the answer: because it made Knives happy. That was what it all really wound down to in the end. She wanted to make sure that Knives would be happy, and if her leaving was what it took, then so be it. That should be it; girl shows up, meets Knives, Knives asks her to leave, she never sees him again, end of story. Or so she wished. It wasn't as if she could forget Knives if she wanted, much less her feelings for him. He was one of those few people that Rhianne couldn't wash her mind of. Even if she wanted to, she doubted she could. Knives had an attractive personality, as insane as that sounded. She supposed he had to be if he had had as many followers as she had picked up on. Could it possibly be that Knives had never felt love, she wondered idly as she trudged along. Even while surrounded by people all his life, he had never experienced the feelings a man got for a woman… Knives had never fallen in love?

Rhianne supposed it could be quite plausible. He seemed to alienate himself from everything, not getting to close to anyone because of the crippling fear of intimacy that could possibly waver him from his path to carry out his genocide plans. Was he that afraid of giving up his plans that he would give up a shot at happiness for it?

But who was to say that they would have gotten along anyway? He might have proven to be an elitist jerk and an asshole that… she scoffed, Knives was all those things anyway, she didn't need to dwell on those things. Or did she? Maybe that was the way to deal with her heartache, to pick Knives apart until she wasn't attracted to him anymore. She sighed. She didn't really want to, it felt like the coward's way out, but she was willing to give it a shot if it meant being able to stop crying. 

Knives wasn't worth her tears. He was an immature jerk who took out all his aggressions on her and when things didn't go his way he threw a fit and pounded his beliefs down the throats of others. He was selfish, undisciplined, immature, undignified, rude, an elitist, prejudiced…. the plant she had come to love. 

Argh, she sighed angrily, so much for that effort. 

Why was it that she correct the err in her opinions? She knew the faults were there, the bastard that so often was the cause of her broken heart had so many problems that she could hardly overlook them… hardly. He was a horrible person, a mean childish sonofabitch that she could barely stand… _barely._ That was the key word. Hardly; barely; almost; nearly… they were all the things that kept her from kicking the living shit out of him. Well, that wasn't true either, she could kick the living shit out of him, but still feel for him.

_We have a really abusive relationship, _she thought remorsefully. _Or at least we would if Knives wasn't so afraid of his emotions._ She added bitterly, sighing heavily. She wished that she hadn't left him now, No matter what she did, all she thought about was him. She bit her lip remorsefully, hopefully she would be able to forget about him when she reached wherever her feet took her.

It was about then that she realized that she had no destination in mind. Damn, she was screwed. Here she was, wandering alone through the desert on a desert planet that she had no clue how to navigate upon, with no one to ask directions from. For a moment her mind doted on the thought of going back and asking Knives for directions, but dismissed the thought almost as soon as it had bloomed in her mind. There was no way she was going back there. She wasn't going to give in. If this was what Knives wanted, then so be it. She wasn't going to run back there and pester him more than she already had. To him she was a nuisance, nothing more.

But she couldn't help remember that gleeful shine in his eyes when she had finally opened herself up to him. He looked like a child on Christmas morning, basking in the glow of the twinkling tree lights and at the abundant pile of presents stacked neatly at the bottom, each one lovingly wrapped with his name printed neatly on the "To:" tag. There was a light in his eyes that hinted at something deep within his black soul that Rhianne couldn't overlook; he hinted at a mutuality in the feelings she had expressed for him. When that light shone in his eyes, he seemed ready to wrap his arms around her and never let go. But that light was fleeting, like a flicker of light in the dark. There a moment, then replaced by the icy bitterness that froze his glaze like a winter's breeze. 

Something was there, that was for sure. Something Knives didn't want to accept; something that plagued him and taunted him at every turn: that Knives wasn't the soulless killer he had made himself out to be. He was a person, just like everyone else. And he couldn't stand to have someone prove it to him, so he had cast her aside, just like he had to everyone else. He would forget her in good time, she figured. And of he didn't; if he continued to yearn for her company as she had sensed he had begun to, then he would come for her. If he didn't… well, she would deal with that when the time came.

For now, it was to put as much distance between herself and him as possible, because the farther away from him she was, the less likely she was to turn around and run back to him. She already knew that going back would be like suicide on her heart. Sure, she could probably make him see, help him come to terms with himself, but what was the fun in that? Sure, she liked the guy, but she was angry at him and the thought of him squirming beneath her thumb brought a smile to her lips, which were shiny with tears that hadn't stayed on their paths down her cheeks.

She could almost picture him, sitting on the sand of the dune she had left him on, his head in his hands, wondering why he had just fucked himself over like that. He would miss her, and he would grapple with his mind about it. It might take days, months, or even years for him to accept it, but Rhianne was willing to wait.

Because that's what you do when you're in love.


	17. He Yearned for Her To Stay

Disclaimer: The seventeenth disclaimer! My little ficcy is almost a grown-up!

Chapter Seventeen: …He Yearned For Her To Stay

As Rhianne trekked through the sand beneath the morning light of the suns, Knives was sat at the base of the dune on which he had made his fateful choice. He sat in the shadows, not letting the rays of morning sunlight envelop him; he didn't feel like sunlight. He wanted clouds to cover the sky and rain, and rain, and rain. But he knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon; it never rained on Gunsmoke. In fact, it rained as often as Knives cried. But in this particular instance, the similarity ended.

He was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, his face buried in his tear-soaked palms. He shoved his face into his hands, trying to smear the tears that seeped through his eyelashes, grinding them into his skin and smearing them over his already damp cheeks. He ran the fingers of his right hand hurriedly, as if doing so would rid him of his problems. As his fingers felt the follicles, they grasped them and puled, so as to put tension on his scalp. He ground his teeth together as tears fell onto his lips and he held back a cry of rage. He licked the tears hastily away, ignoring the salty taste and how alien it seemed to his tongue. His hands clenched and unclenched as he ran his hands over his head, tufts of his hair fluffing out between them as he did so. He shook his head furiously, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that crowded his mind. He shook violently, both in anger and in fear of the emotions the plagued him and ate away at him mind and his beliefs like a cancer. His forehead leaned against his knees, and he buried his face between them, trying to hide the tears that fell from his eyes and the feelings he felt. This wasn't right, wasn't right, wasn't right… wasn't right. 

His head flew back and he stared at the golden morning sky, his irises barely visible behind his crazed pupils. His lips played up in a grim smile, although he had not reason to do so. The look that donned his features was enough to send a man mad, because of the dementia it displayed. But it truth, it didn't show dementia, it showed a man being torn apart from the inside out. 

He wanted her, hated her, missed her, despised her, adored her, felt like spitting at her name, lusted for her, wanted to tear her apart… the list went on. Knives squeezed his eyes shut against the fresh tears that welled up behind his eyes. What was wrong with him? He righted his head on his shoulders, and shook it, his hands still grasping his pale hair that shone in the shadows like a new sun.

His fingers released their grip on his hair, and traced themselves down his damp cheeks, feeling the wet skin beneath them. They fell to his throat, and out to the armor that adorned his shoulders. The nails of his bare hands scraped along against it, creating a screeching sound that pained his ears. Yet it did nothing to ease the ache in his heart. Tears slid down his flushed cheeks, and he wondered why he was cursed with emotions such as these.

Knives could never recall crying before. It was so ironic, he mused, that he would be crying over something so trivial as a woman, when he had delighted in watching the eyes of others well up in the same fashion. He had seen many people cry, oh yes, he had adored to watch the eyes of the vermin begin to swim behind the tears that leaked from them as he slaughtered their loved ones before their very eyes. He had seen a terrible sadness that, at the time, had brought a maniacal smile to his lips. It had both enraged him and made him ecstatic when he saw them fall over themselves to get to the mutilated carcasses of whomever he had just killed, and drop to their knees and lay their heads on the corpse's blood-stained chest and weep. They clutched at the clothing; their white knuckles turned crimson by the blood, staining the fabric even more with their shining tears. They always nuzzled their head against them, sobbing for them not to die, to come back to them, not to leave them alone; grinding the blood into their hair and smearing it over their faces and clothes in the process, not caring about how they looked. Because the most important person in the world to them was gone. It was at this point that Knives had usually gotten tired of their little display, and had killed the vermin. 

It seemed like so long ago that he was killing freely, no one to hinder him from his pursuit of the Eden that he deserved. Then his brother had come along and put a stopper in his plans. Knives wasn't going to stand around and wait for his little pets to die, so he had been creating a little hassle in a town near to his ship. And if he had only not gone out to kill a few days ago, he would have been able to avoid this whole mess.

_Are you sure that's what you want? If you could go back and do it all over again, knowing what would happen, you wouldn't have gone out there and rescued her? That can't be true…_ Vash's made its comeback in his mind.

"No I wouldn't- I mean, yes, I mean… bah!" Knives threw his head into his hands and shook it furiously " I would have stayed rooted in my ship and would have let that bitch die out there in the sand." He stated, more to himself that to the voice in his head.

_Would you really? _ Vash's voice sounded dubious as it prodded at his thoughts. 

"Yes, she is the spider to my butterfly, if I am to succeed in my plans to exterminate the vermin, then she must be gotten rid of." He stated sourly, crossing his arms like a small child would when being told 'no'.

_Are you sure?_ His twins' mental voice shot back questioningly "of course" the plant shot back quickly, clasping his hands to try and stop their incessant trembling. He was shaking, and didn't know why. What was wrong with him? The scorching desert temperatures were rising as steadily as the suns, and he had no reason to be cold, yet he was still shaking.

"What's wrong with me…?" he muttered harshly, clenching his eyes shut from the flow of tears that seemed never-ending. He hated to ask himself that question, for he already knew the answer, deep down in his blackened heart. But it couldn't be true; it simply couldn't

(_yes it can_)

be true. He wouldn't…couldn't fall for her. 

_It's too late Knives, the damage has been done…_ Vash pointed out, his usual meek self acting very strongly about this_ she's finally done what no person, human or plant-not even I- have been able to do. She's wormed her way into your heart and you're not able to accept it. I don't under stand why, love is a beautiful thing. It fills your very soul with light and-_

"The stupidity of the Human race has been bashed into you, hasn't it Vash?" Knives sneered, sniffling loudly and swatting at the salty tears racing down the apples of his cheeks. 

_What do you mean by that?_ Vash responded, sounding both defiant and hurt at the same time. Knives made an attempt to snort, but it came out at a wrenching sob instead and the sand swam before his eyes. He growled angrily and wiped his eyes furiously, smearing the tears over his hands. 

"What I mean by that is this: love is an imaginary emotion made to give the vermin so that they can separate themselves from the animals. It is a false idea that was simply created as an excuse to mate and meddle in the affairs of others. Those who believe in love are fools.

(_Just like me?_)

just like you, brother. You are just as stupid as they are for believing their ridiculous ideas of 'love and peace' they do not exist. Peace is not possible as long as the vermin remain alive, and love is not possible in either case. Love is a manipulative tool that people use to get what they want."

_She didn't manipulate you._ "Knives snorted and swatted at his watery eyes "Oh yes she did, that meddling bitch use those damned words on me, and look at my state. I'm shaking, frantic, unable to control my own movements, and I'm _crying_!! I am Millions Knives and I DO NOT CRY!!! She is nothing more than a nuisance and I'm glad I got rid of her! Do you hear me, you stupid piece of filth of a brother? I DO NOT CARE!!!"

_I doesn't seem that way right now brother…_ Vash stated icily before fading back into the depths of Knives' consciousness, leaving the distraught plant to himself.

"Rhianne…" the whispered words left his lips before he was even aware of it. They were paradise, heaven to his lips. Just saying them made him feel happier. He shook his head vigorously, this wasn't the way to be thinking. It was wrong, wrong, wrong… He was supposed to be focusing on the destruction of the human race, not pouring over some silly girl. 

"_Oh Knives_…" the words were daggers to his thoughts, stopping his train of thought as though they had pulled an unseen plug to his mind, shutting it down for the few seconds that the voice echoed around his hollow mind. The words were spoken as a sigh, showing the hurt and pain that it was meant to display. A pang hit Knives' heart as they were spoken, but the next words chilled him as if the desert sand was snow, because as much as he denied it, he echoed those same sentiments. The words dented his confidence in his theories and ripped open the gaping mental hole inside of him: "_I miss you so much…" _He knew instantly who it was, even before the final words were uttered. 

"Rhianne?" Knives surprised himself by saying the words almost as much as to hear the words that had caused him to speak the girl's name. 

He listened for what seemed like an eternity, waiting and-although he wouldn't have admitted it to himself- secretly hoping more words would follow. But his hopes, no matter how small and secret, were dashed when no words came to comfort him. He hung his head, barely aware of the action and the continual tears that still continued to fall from his icy eyes onto the thirsty sand.

He sobbed loudly and fell backwards onto the sand, finally giving into the sadness that now wrapped itself around him, a deep dark where he couldn't escape himself, or the feelings he had tried so hard to ignore. He squeezed his eyes tightly, only to see her smiling face, as if painted to the insides of his tear-soaked lids. She blinked, her pearly teeth shining with the wetness of the tears that caused her image to swim before him. Without realizing it, Knives fell into a deep sleep, her image never leaving him as he did. Yet the darkness of sleep was fleeting, and it seemed only a moment passed between the blackness of sleep and the dream that followed; and it was a strange dream indeed…

He stood beneath a sapphire sky, nearly hidden by the tall trees that climbed up into the sky, their branches reaching up towards two suns that marked early noon. The grass beneath him was soft and velvety, the bark of the trees a deep chocolate, their leave a glinting emerald, dripping shimmering droplets of water to the moss that lined their roots, hinting at a rain just past. The trees formed a straight line towards a large clearing that boasted a large lake laced by white sand, the blue of the water resplendent in the afternoon sunshine. His gaze locked on the lake, Knives became aware of the steady movement of his feet in that direction. A flock of brightly colored birds flew by, startling him. He had seen very few birds, even in his expansive lifetime, and the vibrant color of the birds both startled him and amazed him. They moved swiftly, so that they were merely blue and red blurs before Knives' eyes as he made his way to the lake. As he approached the sparkling water, he became aware of a dark spot beneath the calm surface. For a reason he couldn't comprehend, seeing the things beneath the water calmed him immensely, and he felt relaxed as the figure became much more identifiable beneath the glassy surface. It was a person, there was no doubt about that. Long hair wafted around its head as it made it's way up the slope beneath the water. A moment later, Knives realized that he was able to identify the person beneath the waves, for it was the brilliant aqua glow of their eyes that cast away any doubt he had originally had about who the person was: Rhianne.

The top of her head emerged from the water, causing ripples to mar its glassy surface. Knives tried to back away, but found that his feet were rooted to the spot, and he couldn't turn and run for the sanctuary the trees beckoned from behind him. Rhianne had emerged fully from the water, yet no drop of it was to be found as proof of that. To anyone having not witnessed her entrance into Knives' strange dream, she would have appeared to have been basking beneath the sun all afternoon and not to have touched the water at all.

"Hello Knives." She smiled, albeit a bit sadly. He looked into her eyes and watched the suns in them fill them with a soft golden glow. She wore a long sleeveless opalescent dress that fell to her ankles, nearly transparent in the bright sunlight. No shoes adorned her feet, and she wriggled her toes in the sand as she watched him nervously.

"Where am I?" Knives demanded, doing his best to sound angry but coming out sounding surprisingly miffed. She smiled a little and took his hand, refusing to yield as he tried to pull it away. 

"This" she started, waving her free hand around "is a reflection of what could be." Knives' blonde eyebrows climbed up his forehead in a questioning gesture "what do you mean 'what could be'?" Rhianne's smiled wavered as she answered.

"This place is a reflection of your heart" her smile wavered slightly "or at least what it could be like." She let Knives hand slip from hers and as she did so, the landscape changed around them.

The trees blackened, withered, and died, the grass shriveled and became a sickly gray, the crystal blue water of the lake turned to a dark, dirty brown, and the clear sky clouded over with ominous black thunder clouds. Knives glanced around nervously; he didn't like this dream much. 

He turned back to Rhianne, to find that she had changed as well. Her hair, which had been falling softly on her shoulders before, was not knotted and stringy, her face was marred with scratches and sported a large red mark from where he had slapped her the day before. Her dress hung loosely about her, shredded and in tatters, the shiny opalescence of it worn out with what looked like decades of use, her arms bore multiple scratches and her shoulder was had swelled again. Her bare feet were bloody and riddled with little thorns and slivers, and the thing that struck the male plant the most was the light in her eyes was gone. Her eyes looked vacant, like her physical form was there with him, but her glassy eyes looked distant and eerie. 

"This is the reflection of your heart in its current state, a decaying, blackened thing that kills everything it comes into contact with. What you saw before was the happiness that you could feel if you stopped lying to yourself, the love that could change your heart, your true Eden. Everyone can find their Eden, Knives, because to love and be loved in return _is_ Eden." With that said, the little light left in her eyes faded and she fell forward onto her knees on the dirt. Knives, hardly aware of his actions, caught her before she could fall any further.

"I still love you Knives, I want you to know that. I'm sorry you don't feel the same way, but if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad" she paused, her eyed drooping heavily "but if it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?" Then she went limp in his arms.

The now familiar sting of tears came to Knives' eyes as he clutched her limp form to his chest. "No…no...no…" he sobbed, uncaring of the emotions overtaking him "what the hell is happening to me?" he cried, pulling her closer to him.

"Oh the irony of your situation." An all-too-familiar voice stated from behind him. 

Knives whirled around, Rhianne's limp form still clutched tightly to his chest, and saw the one person he had hoped and prayed to never see again. 

For behind him, her raven hair swirling in the wind, her brown eyes sparkling, was Rem Saverem.


	18. Following The Angel's Guidance

Disclaimer: Happy birthday to my ficcy! It's an adult now! ^_^ But despite that, Trigun isn't mine…

Chapter Eighteen: Following the Angel's Guidance

Rem stood behind him, clear as crystal and as real as a dream woman could get. She was smiling, and it enraged Knives to see her smile at his hurt.

"What do you want, bitch?" he spat, standing to face her, Rhianne's body held tightly in his arms. Rem moved forward, extending her right hand to him. Knives recoiled, sneering at the raven-haired woman who had caused him so much hassle.

"I only want to help you Knives." She smiled warmly, and a low chuckle escaped Knives' lips "help me do what? You've been enough of a hassle, you stupid piece of filth. You ruined my plans and because of you my sisters are dying at the hands of your race. You have no right to speak to me, you are the killer of my people."

Rem looked abashed, taking a step back and raising a slender hand to her lips. Her chocolate eyes looked confused. She closed them and shook her head a few times, and the look of hurt was gone from them when her eyelids lifted back up.

"Now isn't the time to talk about that, you need help." She stated "that girl loves you, and it's time to come to grips with how you feel." 

"What do you know, you stupid pacifist bitch? Leave me the hell alone and get me the fuck out of this dream." Rem smiled lightly "ah, the glory of lucid dreams, eh Knives? You know you're sleeping, but you are still unable to wake up on command." 

Knives' eyes narrowed angrily and he would have struck her if not for the corpse in his arms. She looked exactly like he remembered her, her image burned into his mind and shoved back to the darkest recesses, only to be dragged up when he least needed it.

"I can handle myself, leave me alone." He spat. Rem laughed a mocking laugh that Vash would never have thought her capable of, he thought too highly of her for that "yes, it seems you're handling things quite well…" she stated flatly, although Knives knew she would have liked to be sarcastic, her overall pacifism kept her from being mean and rash.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Knives shot back, sounding rather hurt, although not meaning to. He knew what she was talking about, but wasn't going to admit that to her, now was he? 

"You have problems addressing your feelings, and I'm here to help you come to grips with that." Knives eyed her warily, squeezing Rhianne's form close to his chest. She was getting colder, and he didn't like the feeling of all the warmth of life leaving him with only an empty shell. Rem noticed this, and pointed out her fact again: "you can't deal with your emotion, and I'm here to help you." Knives laughed a little "why? Why is my wellbeing of any concern to you?"

" Because, despite the despotic madman you've become, I know that deep down inside the little boy I raised is fighting to get out; and I intend to help him." Knives' lips parted a little and he smiled a little.

"I was a fool then, but I have learned the err of my ways and I am not the naïve child I once was. I know the solution to my problems, and am fully aware about what to do about them." Rem raised an eyebrow "do you? What about Rhianne? You don't seem to have a solution about that situation." She pointed out, a little smugly. 

Knives glared at her angrily "shut up. I'll figure it out, I always have." Rem's smile disappeared and she looked annoyed "and I assume that killing thousands of innocent people is a just solution to your childhood problems?" Knives smiled, looking self- satisfied "yes."

"Look, this isn't important right now. I'm here to give you sagely advice, so please listen." She sounded almost pleading as the said the latter part.

"Why should I? If my own brother doesn't even care about me, then why should you? Or her, for that matter?" he nodded to Rhianne's cold form. Rem looked a little sad "the reason I'm here is because of Vash." She stated quietly.

"He can sense your hurt because of the bond between you, and it hurts _him_ to see you hurting." Knives snorted "what does that have to do with you?" 

"I don't like seeing Vash unhappy. He was a wonderful child, and has been very true to his promise to take care of you." Knives laughed, a loud bark that echoed around the dead realm that still stood around them. 

"You call this taking care of me? I've been trying to keep him safe and he keeps foiling my plans and shooting me! He killed Legato! He betrayed you!…" he trailed off, taking deep breaths. Rem shook her head and stepped forward "no Knives, you think he betrayed you. I'm of no concern to you, it's the fact that your brother still is loyal to me that bothers you. You feel that he chose me over you, and because of that one little incident, you've shut Rhianne out as well." She moved her chin in Rhianne's direction "she loves you, and you keep shutting her out. She tried to make you happy, and this is what you're left with. You're unhappy, and it pain me to see it, Vash to feel it, and Rhianne to know the same, so suck it up and go after her already!" 

Knives was ready to spit back a retort, but didn't get time, as his vision was suddenly consumed by a brilliant white light and Rem faded into the intense whiteness that burned the back of his eyes.

He squinted his eyes shut and rolled away from the light of the twin suns from directly above him. "Damn it." He stated, rubbing his eyes against his arm, trying to dislodge the sleep from his eyes. 

Rising slowly, he stretched the kinks out of his back and shoulders, moving his shoulder blades and moving his neck around a little. His eyes were closed as he did this, marveling at the sereneness the darkness provided. He stretched his legs, moving them out a little and wriggling his toes as would a little child. He felt calm and much more at peace than when he had fallen asleep. He had once heard the Hornfreak mention to his late pet Legato Bluesummers that sleep was a calming device that would subconsciously sort through your thoughts and regulate them so that you woke up feeling calm and serene. It had been at this point that Legato had stated that he was never at peace because Vash the Stampede was not suffering for causing his master pain, that he was a piece of filth who did not deserve to live. And that he would only be truly at peace when he lay cold on the ground and did not stand in the way of his Master's Eden. At the moment, Knives felt the truth of the Hornfreak's words. He felt strangely refreshed. 

"O_h Knives…I miss you so much"…_ The words of sadness pierced the veil of his thoughts, as they had done before. Knives opened his eyes with surprise, and saw Rhianne standing before him. She looked as she had been in his dream; her hair falling on her shoulders, the light in her eyes, the opalescence of her long dress. She was smiling a little, as if she knew that her image was only fleeting. As it was so, because as soon as Knives blinked, she was gone, the image his brain had put there carried away like the sand in the wind.

Knives shook his head, trying to clear it a little. _She tried to make you happy, and this is what you're left with…_ Rem's voice was carried over to him, almost as if she was standing over the dune and the wind had carried her voice to him. But Rem was long dead, most unlike the feelings he still couldn't accept.

_Go to her, you baka!_ Vash's voice popped up, then faded away like the spark of light in the darkness; fleeting but noticeable at the same. Knives shut his eyes and shook his despondently. This was of no use. He would sit and fume over this until he finally confronted her again. 

So, half-begrudgingly, Knives walk to the top of the dune, looked in the direction Rhianne had taken, and took off over the dune after her, his mind and muscles complaining both at the sudden movement he was making them do, and the direction he was going in. But as he strode beneath the bright light of the twin suns, sweat pouring down his forehead and staining the fabric of his suit, his breath in long gasps and his eyes narrowed against the dirt and grit the wind carried, his heart was light. 

He felt both half-asleep and wide-awake with the exhalation and inhalation of each breath, lost between both in the desert of his heart. But somewhere in the vastness of his blackened soul, he realized was the spark of light. It was like a lone candle in a castle, casting only the smallest of glows, but at the same time pushing at the darkness and making it recede, if only a little.

Perhaps it wasn't the best option to follow the female plant, he mused, but it was the only option that he could think of that wouldn't make his hurt. And that's what it really was, an aching from the very bottom of his dark and cold soul that cried out for the light and warmth that she carried with her; her torch held aloft as a beacon for his heart. He could sense her, the life that coursed through her veins, and the love that had caused her to leave. He was the dark and she was the light; he was yin and she was yang, they were both of the same blood, yet not related at all; she was good and he was evil; and angel and a demon; they were enemies yet allies at the same time; war and peace; the darkness of space and the light of the moon; a thousand things yet nothing at all. They were two contradictions that contrasted perfectly, he thought as a little smile parted his lips, as he watched the and in the lazy breeze drift away the remains of the light footsteps of the woman he loved.


	19. The Humaniod Typhoon

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, blah, blah, blah… just read the story.

Chapter Nineteen: The Humanoid Typhoon

The pale sand crunched solemnly beneath Rhianne's boots as she walked along, the hot early evening light of the twin suns beating down upon her back. She sighed with exhaustion and shut her downcast eyes against the sand carried by the lazy wind. She pulled her shawl closer around her and rubbed her tear-stained eyes. 

She had ceased crying not too long ago, when the wind had picked up and the sand carried in it stuck to her tears and made her pores itch. She had stopped tearing, true, but she knew more tears would come eventually. She wasn't over Knives, not by a long shot.

As her aqua eyes moved back to the horizon of the dusty plains, her heart leapt as she caught sight of the claw-like protrusions of a plant looming over the town like a bird protecting its nestling. Rhianne felt her pace quicken until she was in an all-out dash towards the city limits, her cloak flapping like a sheet in the wind behind her.

"Finally!" she cried joyfully, jumping into the air and throwing her arms skyward, her palms flat against the light of the suns. She landed, continuing to run as the cracked, white plaster of the buildings became visible on the flat horizon. Rhianne's feet, which earlier had complained due to the excess walking mere moments earlier, felt like lead weights had been lifted from as she loped through the desert, as happy as a kid at Christmas. Her mind was racing and her heart felt light at the prospect of a hot bath and a full meal.

She bounded into town, nearly colliding with several people as she danced her way between them, making her way to a building labeled "café" with an awkward grace. She literally rolled through the swinging doors and landed on her feet, catching the attention of everyone in the crowded bar, their quizzical looks causing bubbly laughter to boil over her lips. She was the focus of attention for a few moments, until the people got bored at staring at the strange woman, and then returned to their collective groups, and she was able to make her way to the bar without interruption. 

Seating herself on the barstool, Rhianne removed her cloak and stuffed it hastily into her pack before calling the man working the bar over. The barkeep, a middle-aged brunette balding man with a small potbelly sauntered over and inquired as to what she wanted to drink.

"A plate of linguini and a beer." Rhianne stated flatly, pulling her matted hair back into her trademark ponytail. The man stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly ajar in a fashion that annoyed the woman greatly. "Beg pardon miss?" he asked, scratching his thin hair, combed over in a desperate attempt to hide the large bald spot adorning his head. 

"I said, a plate of linguini and a beer please." Rhianne shot back without hesitation, finger-combing her windblown hair. "Aren't you sure you don't want something… lighter?" the barkeep asked hesitantly. The girl cocked an eyebrow "I'm positive, why do you ask?"

"Well," the man started slowly, cleaning out a mug with his apron "most women don't order hard liquor." Rhianne allowed herself a quick laugh at the man, more of a bark then anything else "well I'm not 'most women', so my beer and linguini please." The man looked slightly miffed, but set to making the drink nonetheless. Allowing the man to wander out of her peripheral vision, Rhianne set to examining the people in the bar. 

It was a rather large café, with six circular tables, with four metal chairs apiece, most of which were taken by groups of young people. Families took most of the tables in the middle, the children all eating burgers and the like; but a few were taken by groups of rowdy teenagers and the odd couple. Absently she paused to wonder if Knives would ever take her out for dinner; most likely not, there would be far too many 'vermin' around for his tastes anyway. 

A large, beaten table in the far corner caught her attention, as did the umbrella of cEigarette smoke under which sat several men, each with cards in their hands and guns and their hips. Rhianne's face involuntarily took on a disgusted look as she observed the large, thick gray could above the men; she found smoking to be a habit most disgusting and unsanitary.

"They're bounty hunters." The bartender stated matter-of-factly. Rhianne turned to him "really?" She crinkled her nose. They looked rather dirty and scummy, not like the ones she'd met back home. They were all quite well-dressed and well-groomed, with very few exceptions to that unspoken rule; the geeks of the bounty hunter world, these guys would have been. She frowned in their direction, hoping that her mother had been wrong about dirtiness being contagious. 

"Don't take kindly to their kind?" The barkeep asked as he plunked her beer down on the wood of the bar. She turned to him "it's not them, really. I don't like smokers. They smell and taste bad, plus they spend all their money on cigarettes." 

"Cigars are much more popular nowadays." The barkeep offered. Rhianne shook her head lightly "nope. Anything related to smoking is bad. It kills you from the inside out, and you do it to yourself. Frankly, I find smokers to be rather pathetic people to have to rely on something that petty for happiness."

The barkeep blinked for a moment, as if trying to understand that an insightful statement like that had just come from the innocent-looking woman sitting before him that looked like she knew more of the bed than of the mind. She looked at him, amused by the look on his face, and it struck him that had he been ten years younger, he would have liked very much to court her. But he cast his thoughts aside as a shout from the kitchen from Leo, the cook. He turned around and grabbed the plate of linguini from the window linking the kitchen to the restaurant. 

"Mm, thanks!" the girl stated, and dug into her linguini with gusto. She stuffed for a moment, thinking only of the gaping hole in her stomach, but a small gasp brought her out of her binge with a startled "mm?"

She looked up at the bartender, a large noodle hanging from her saucy lips. He was giving her a quizzical look. Realizing he had been indicating her lack of manners, she slurped the noodle up and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, trying her best to seem dainty. At his doubtful look, she snorted loudly and covered her mouth with a napkin to hide the food that had fallen out. 

"So much for manners." He stated laughingly. Rhianne smiled behind her napkin and finished off her plate. Gulping down the beer, she placed the empty mug on the plate and pushed it towards the barkeep "best. Dinner. Ever." She stated "how much'll that be?" she asked, reaching back into her pack and pulling out a small wallet.

"25$$" the barkeep stated, walking over to an old-fashioned cash register. Rhianne followed him and opened up her wallet, exposing a few coins and placing them in his palm.

"There." She stated happily "keep the change." She turned to leave, but the loud, irritated voice of the barkeep stopped her in her tracks. "What change? What the hell kinda money is this, lady?" 

Rhianne turned around and walked back to the register and pointed to the money "this is Farren, a currency used on most planets in the solar system." She counted the six coins she had deposited in his hand "six Farren is equal to 28$$, so you can keep the change." She smiled a little and looked up him, hoping silently that he would understand and she could leave and find herself a place to sleep.

"I have no clue what your talking about, lady. But you'll better cut the crap and pay up, or I'm gonna have to take you to the sheriff." Rhianne's jaw dropped slightly at her shock. People here didn't use Farren? She had known that they were behind in the times, but hadn't thought that they were _this_ far behind. She shrugged helplessly.

"Can't I do dishes or something to pay for it?" she asked, trying not to blush at the amount of unwanted attention she was getting because of her slip-up. The barkeep put a finger to his chin thoughtfully and sighed with defeat "I suppose so, but don't go making up any wild stories again, little lady, or you'll get yourself into some real trouble." He smiled lightly and ushered her though a doorway and into the kitchen.

Pots and pans hung from the ceiling by long horizontal poles, while the walls were lined with large, soapy tubs on one side, and several stoves, deep-fryers, and the like cluttering the other wall. The room smelled of grease and sweat, and instantly Rhianne wondered of the quality of her food as the barkeep shouted "Leo!" into the smoky air. 

Instantly, a large man lumbered out of the fog-like smoke towards them. He was a tall, well-built man with curly brown hair, pulled back by a hairnet. His hands were large and strong looking, like those of bear. His neck was large and made his head look irregularly small. He was dressed in a dirty white shirt and faded, equally dirty, blue jeans under a long crisp apron, oddly clean against the messiness of the rest of his attire.

"She tried to get out of payin'." The barkeep grunted and pushed Rhianne towards him. 

"No problem." Leo scoffed and wheeled her over to a large basin, already full of bubbles and with large piles of dirty dishes next to it.

"Clean these and you're off." He grunted. Rhianne looked at the piles of plates and the like "_all this?_" she uttered, raising her eyebrows. She turned to find that Leo had left, and sighed heavily; time was wasting.

******************************************************************************

Rhianne sighed as another pile of dishes was shoved towards her and immersed her hands in the murky, dirty water with a disheartened sigh. She must have been here for hours, and the dishes seemed to keep on coming. What did they think she was, some sort of slave? Her ears suddenly caught the sound of a fight coming from the restaurant, and she leaned towards the doorway in curiosity. A tall blonde man, wearing a long red coat and big black boots, and sporting the strangest hairstyle Rhianne had ever seen was fighting a loosing battle with the barkeep.

"Wait! I have a friend who works here! They'll pay!" he cried in a ridiculously high voice, obviously trying to sound pathetic. The bartender took none of it "who's that?" he demanded warily. The blonde put a finger to his chin thoughtfully.

"Walt?" he asked hopefully. The barkeep snorted "nope, ain't never been a man working here by that name. In the back buddy, you're gonna scrub the dishes until your bill's paid off, y'hear?" he stated roughly, pushing the blonde into the kitchen. He ushered the man to the sink next to her, indicated to the large pile of dishes next to him, and left. The blonde sighed.

"I hate dishes." He wailed, dropping to the floor in apathetic heap. Rhianne nudge him gently and helped him to his feet "welcome to the club" she stated laughingly before turning back to her dishes. 

"Say, what did you do? How come you didn't have enough money to pay?" she asked as she scrubbed a piece of lasagna off a grimy plate. The blonde sighed "I bought a guy a drink and he used up all of my money, and then some." Rhianne gave him a quizzical look "he'd he manage that?" Another sigh. 

"I went to the bathroom and he ordered drinks for everyone-on _my_ bill." He said, working the lettuce off a fork with a cloth. "Ah I see." Rhianne smiled.

"What about you?" he asked, "you look like the kind of woman that has money, so what's your story?" Rhianne gave him a steady look, and contemplated the man before her. She knew instantly what he was, and assumed it safe to tell.

"I guess its safe to tell you." She stated, pulling out her wallet and producing a few Farren coins "this is Farren, a type of money used to exchange the different currency of planets. Obviously, Gunsmoke isn't that advanced." She added bitterly.

The man looked at her for a moment, letting her words sink in. He raised his eyebrows and leaned in slightly. "What's your name?" he asked quietly, as if her name were a big secret he'd rather not tell.

"Rhianne De LaTour" she stated simply, and went back to scrubbing a particularly dirty pot full of leftover stew. The blonde blinked at her for a moment and then asked a question the made her heart skip a beat "do you know a man named… Knives?" he asked hesitantly.

Rhianne's eyes widened and her head shot up and her gaze locked on him "who did you say just now?" she demanded, leaning closer. "Millions Knives." The man repeated "do you know him?" Rhianne began to shake, and had to lean on the countertop for fear of falling over.

"Y-yes. I do…why?" she uttered at last. A look of recognition flooded the blonde's features as he smiled at her "ah, so you're the infamous Rhianne." 

"What are you talking about? Hey buddy, just who are you anyway?" she demanded, the familiar feeling of confusion sweeping over her, accompanied by the feeling of violation. How did he know about her?

"Well" the blonde man stated, putting his hand to his chin, index finger pointing out in what she assumed he thought to be a suave manner "I chase the elusive mayfly called 'love', search for-ow!" Rhianne had smacked him upside the head. 

"Don't be stupid. Who are you." She asked again. He rubbed his head "oww…" he paused and took in the look on Rhianne's face, telling him that if he valued his future children, he'd better answer her question. 

"My name is" he leaned in close to her, his breath tickling her ear "Vash." Rhianne pulled away "you mean as in-"

"No! Certainly not the Humanoid Typhoon- not me!" Vash said, throwing his hands up into the air "No you baka, Knives' brother." Rhianne stated, sighing.

"Yes…" Vash stated slowly, as if he didn't relish the affiliation to the other plant. Rhianne turned to him again "so…how do you know about me? Knives doesn't seem very keen on talking to you telepathically or otherwise, so what's the deal?"

"Even though Knives doesn't like to talk to me much, we can both sense each other's emotions, and his feelings for you came in loud and clear. Naturally, I became curious and probed his mind a little. That's where I found out about you." The male plant stated simply, sounding rather embarrassed to have read his brother's thoughts but defensive at the same time. 

"I see…" Rhianne allowed her voice to trail off, allowing Vash to speak something that caused her to nearly drop the plate in her hand.

"He loves you, you know." He stated quietly. Rhianne gasped a little and put the plate on the counter; turning to him, she regarded him with wide-eyes amazement "what?" 

"He loves you. As much as he tries to dismiss it, he knows how he feels." Vash pointed out again, immersing his hands in the soapy water "I know my brother, and I also know how he feels for you. I wouldn't be surprised if he was looking for you at this very moment."

"I hope so." Rhianne sighed loudly. She heard the sound of raised voices in the restaurant, and heard the door swing open gently. She became aware of eyes on her back, almost feeling the daggers that their gaze contained. Her scrubbing motions froze, the plate fell into the sudsy water as her back stiffened and her nerves cramped. She drew in a deep breath and felt her eyes widen slightly. 

"Vash?" she asked after a few minutes of silence, looked up at Vash. He eyes were narrowed, looking glassy and fierce. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, one hanging near a pocket in his jacket. His steady gaze traveled past her and to the doorway, where the light was obscured by the figure of a man.

"Hello brother." He stated icily.

A/N: Ahaha! Cliffhangers galore! R&R and I'll post sooner…. ^_^ 


	20. Conflict In the Kitchen

Disclaimer: Vash: I have no owner- oh woe is me!

LL: I'll own you Vash… *grins evilly* oh yes, that's what I'll do…. ^_^

Vash: *hesitantly* um, okay. Me and the rest of the Trigun characters belong to LL!

*A large group of lawyers from the people who really own Trigun appear and produce a bunch of legal papers* 

LL: *looks scared* Eeee, Vash, go back to where you came from.

Vash: *sadly* oh… *walks over to the lawyers and disappears in a puff of black smoke*

Chapter Twenty: 

A/N: Yeah, it's short. Sorry, school's stupid and full of homework. Sorry ^_^

Rhianne's head turned towards the doorway, where the light was partially obscured by Knives' frame. His hair was windswept, and fell across his broad forehead. His clothes looked scratched with the sand and the armor was in need of buffing because of the onslaught of sand it had received while he had been walking. His boots were unlaced and his pants were crumpled around the bottoms, completing the messiness his ensemble portrayed. For a moment, she swore he looked almost relieved to see her, but his gaze caught Vash's, and his features turned stony.

"Vash." He barely acknowledged his brother's presence as he turned to Rhianne and walked over to her, ignoring the stares he was receiving from the kitchen staff and grasping her upper arm. 

"Rhianne, come with me." He stated in a monotone voice. His eyes averted from her face to that of his twin "stay out of this Vash" he forewarned his sibling. From the corner of her eyes Rhianne spotted the barkeep rush into the kitchen and begin to walk towards the trio.

"Hey! What are you-" was all he managed to utter before Knives he whipped his gun from its holster at his hip and put a hole between his eyes. Crimson blood gushed forward from the fatal wound, and the man fell to the floor, the first wave of blood already drying on his skin.

"Knives!" Vash cried, tears coming to his eyes "what did you do that for? He wasn't hurting anybody! Why couldn't you just leave him alone?" Knives turned on his brother.

"Because he was an annoyance, as are all the insects on this planet." He sneered before wrenching Rhianne towards him.

"Come with me." He stated again, pulling forcefully on her arm. She allowed herself to be hauled along through the kitchen, until Knives was stopped by Leo, the cook. He stood before the plant, his arms stretched out to his sides, blocking their path, and a furious look smeared across his features, oblivious to the opponent he faced.

"You bastard, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat angrily as he advanced on them. He pulled gun, a large colt much more modern that those of Knives and Vash, from beneath his apron and pointed it at the broom-haired plant's forehead.

A shot rang out from the kitchen that sent the people in the café running; and the bullet that was fired as a result of this shot should have hit the infamous Humanoid Typhoon right between his aqua eyes. But his handsome face was unmarred. He blinked stupidly, looking from left to right, unable to understand why he was still alive. His vision turned to Rhianne, whose closed palm was level with her head, and was shaking slightly.

"Hot, hot, hot…" she stated quietly, opening her fist and allowing the smoking bullet to fall into the tiled floor, landing in a small puddle of soapy water with a light hiss. The stampede looked at his brother, who nodded in the woman's direction "she caught it…?" Vash asked, dumbfounded. Knives nodded silently.

Leo looked from the bullet to Rhianne, his eyes wide with fear "just what the hell are you?" he demanded. Rhianne smiled a mocking smile at him "we're plants" She stated "and this guy" she motioned to Vash "is the Humanoid Typhoon, Vash the Stampede."

Leo looked from her to Vash and back again. "You've gotta be shittin' me." He stated, and then a sadistic grin the only a man destined to die would wear came across his features.

"Then I should kill you freaks and collect the 60 000 000 000$$, shouldn't I?" His gun moved to Rhianne's forehead, but he never got a chance to fire, as another shot rang out and hit it's target: Leo's gut.

His open palm grasped at the wound, and stared in disbelief at the crimson liquid staining his once-crisp apron. Suddenly, his body was lifted up into the air and slammed against the wall, and Knives brushed by Rhianne, a diabolical grin on his face. 

"No Knives…" Vash pleaded, stretching his hand towards his sibling. Rhianne grasped it and led him out of the room "we don't need to see this" were her only words of condolence as the kitchen door swung shut behind them. 

They moved quietly to a table, and Rhianne sat on a chair, allowing Vash to lay his head in her lap and sob into the material of her uniform. She stroked his hair, which had fallen down somewhat during the last hectic few minutes, and told him to hush, that Knives was Knives and it was only one man.

"But I promised Rem…" Vash sobbed, clutching at her knee. He looked up at her, his aqua eyes overflowing with tears, silently pleading for her to say it would be okay, that Knives would back off and everything would be okay. But both knew it wasn't so.

"Vash, you made that promise to Rem, not Knives. You know how he is. Just let him be for now, the cook will die much more painfully if left alone, so Knives is really doing him a favor." She crooned, trying her best to condole the woe-begotten man. Vash sobbed loudly and whimpered something about wanting a donut, and Rhianne moved to stand.

"What are you doing?" Vash asked, clutching at her hand and rising after her. She looked back at him, her gaze steady "I'm going to go in there and make sure Knives doesn't get carried away" She stated morosely as she brushed Vash off her and walked through the door, leaving the Humanoid Typhoon to himself in the vacant restaurant.

She walked into the kitchen, accompanied by Leo's screams. Her eyes took in the blood flowing from the man pinned on the wall, his apron now completely red, no trace of the original color left. His eyes were wide, his forehead boasted several large, bulging veins, and an unseen hand was holding his gun to his right temple. Below him, grinning madly, stood Knives, his hand outstretched as though he was holding the gun. His trigger finger twitched, and his pupils shrunk as he moved his finger.

"You piece of filth, how dare you aim at my woman?" he sneered, tightening his hold on the invisible gun "do you honestly think that I would allow you to shoot at one of my kind? You're just an insect compared to me, and it is time for me to splatter you brains out onto the sidewalk of life, human scum." His finger moved slightly, and Leo shouted out in fear.

"Knives! Don't!" Rhianne cried, jumping to him. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she took him to the floor. Her hand grasped his, wrenching his finger from the trigger. She landed on top of him, and her fingers wrapped themselves through his, disabling him from holding the gun. Her aqua eyes met with his ice, and she resisted the urge to meet their lips as well "don't Knives. He can still live, and you know it."

As if on queue, Leo fell from the wall, and landed with a heavy grunt on the bloodstained floor. Rhianne looked from Knives to Leo, then back again "leave him be" she whispered into his ear "he isn't worthy of receiving death from a plant like you." For a moment, she had thought she had struck a nerve, but Knives' ego wasn't as bloated as she had thought. He looked form the wounded man to her, his eyes showing he had caught on to her.

"You may have a point, but he deserves death more than life" Knives hissed through clenched teeth "I'm simply putting the vermin out of his misery." Rhianne smiled a little at him "are you sure it wasn't because he was going to shoot me?" she asked coyly. Knives' eyes narrowed as he tried to hide the embarrassment, but Rhianne saw the flush that came to his cheeks. She grinned in spite of herself, and allowed Knives to sit up. 

Leo scrambled to his feet behind them and ran towards the door. Knives extended his hand to stop him, but Rhianne caught his fingers in hers "no Knives, he's no threat to us." The cook heard her state before fleeing from the café, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. 

Knives turned to Rhianne, and saw that she was smiling widely. Her eyes shone with tears of happiness, and without warning, she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. She nuzzled her face into his neck and sighed contentedly as she felt Knives' arms wrap themselves around her back, returning the gesture of affection she knew he had always felt. 

"I'm so glad you came for me." She stated happily as the door swung open and Vash entered the room. He was a little taken back at the scene before him, especially because it involved his twin showing signs of affection. He smiled in spite of himself though, as the two plants lips met, and he covered his eyes shyly.

In the back alley behind the café, Leo the cook leaned breathlessly against the wooden wall of a house, his hands clutching at the wound in his torso. He gritted his teeth against the pain, and shot a deathly glare back at the café. So they thought he wouldn't be any trouble to them, did they? He would prove them wrong, he smiled grimly as he made his way slowly along the wall to the open street. Those plants would pay dearly, there was no doubt about that. A small trickle of blood fell from his thin lips as they parted in a sinister sneer; the plants would perish not matter what, and that accursed woman would be the first to go.


	21. Reunion

Disclaimer: No witty puns today, that last disclaimer drained my Creative Disclaimer Batteries for a while. 

Chapter Twenty-One: Reunion

A/N: Hey, you want to read a really good Knives ficcy? Then read Gunpowder & Blood by Chibi Kenie Loves Her Drum- one of my personal faves! ^_^

As Rhianne wrapped him in a hug, Knives felt very much like he was watching himself from outside of his body. It seemed he suddenly became aware of every detail he had dismissed before. He noted the grains in the bloodstained wood, the small puddle of brown water on the floor near the row of sinks, and the wattage on the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling. He heard the blood ooze down the wall from the vermin's wound. He became aware of the shaking of his hands that encircled Rhianne's torso. He felt the wild beating of her heart beneath her chest as she pushed herself against him, refusing to release her grip. He heard his sibling, who he loved so very dearly, swing the door open gently and step in; and saw the rush of color rise in the apples of his pale cheeks as he saw his twin enveloped in the arms of a woman. He suddenly saw the deepness of the aqua in Rhianne's eyes; and became aware of the thousands of slivers of color that danced in her ocean green irises. They danced with life, like the reflection of stars in an ocean as beautiful as she. Her lashes, thick and black, half-hid her eyes. Her chestnut hair seemed to waft around her face, creating a chocolate halo that encircled the pale cream of her flesh. Her arms were firm around him, her fingertips grazing the back of his neck lightly enough to send shivers up his spine. Her cherry lips parted and her eyes closed, and she threw her lips against his. 

Knives felt jerked back into his body as he felt the touch of her lips. They sent a spark that ignited something within him, and he kissed her back, squeezing her close, hoping that he could stay lost forever in the moment. 

But his wish was denied, for his right eye opened a little, and he saw that Vash was still standing in the doorway, shielding his eyes with his hand and smiling a little. Knives' eyes wandered to the hand that covered the eyes that so eerily matched Rhianne's; it was his gun arm. 

_It's because of me he has that_ he thought suddenly, only half-aware of the though processing itself in his mind. His mind switched from the prosthetic arm that his brother sported to replace the one that had died with Legato; to the hundreds of scars, both large and small, that had been, at times, literally carved into his flesh. Idly, as Rhianne's lips moved against his, Knives wondered if it was time to make amends with his sibling. But, as his lips moved back in response to hers, he discarded the thought as a child would a broken toy, and placed the general opprobrium on his brother. He couldn't make peace with his twin as long as he doted upon that foolish Rem Saverem and her childish, ultra-pacifistic ideas of "love and peace", and that it was an ultimate sin to take the life of another. To Knives, the idea seemed implausible; it was far easier to simply kill to get what you want than to avoid killing and potentially die simply to save a few. As Rhianne pulled her lips away from his, gasping for air, and asked himself if his twin would ever see the light of reason.

Knives loosened his grip on Rhianne's waist, and she mimicked his motion, allowing him to slip out of her grasp and rise to his feet. She followed suit, moving gracefully to her feet, and linking Knives' arm through hers. For a moment, his gaze flitted to their intertwined arms, but he moved his eyes back to Vash. He took a long step towards him, nearly loosing Rhianne's arm in the process, and he could feel her eyes on the back of his head, mentally warning him against anything rash.

"Knives I-" Vash started, but Knives moved his hand to stop him "Vash, it's good to see you again." He stated, and was rewarded with another encouraging squeeze and a mental _go Knives!_ From Rhianne.

"It's good to see you too Knives." Vash stated, his eyes tearing up. He moved swiftly, wrapping his arms around his brother's shoulders and pushing his head on his shoulder, sobbing loudly at the emotional moment.

"I'm so glad to see you again Knives! I really missed you! I've been so sad since Meryl left on her assignment and I had to stay here and keep watch for you! I've been so lonely!" he covered his face with his forearm and cried large wet spots into the red of his jacket 

"I NEED A DONUT!" he cried loudly before slamming his head back onto his arm. Knives looked helplessly to Rhianne, who smirked at his embarrassment. She adjusted her ponytail and brushed invisible dust off her uniform, now stained and in need of cleaning, as Vash sobbed into his arm, the other still wrapped around Knives' neck.

"Isn't that sweet? You're little pet has gone off and left you all alone. What did I say? I warned you against-" Knives started, trying to be heard over Vash's wailing. But he stopped himself short when Rhianne shot him a dark glare and mentally told him to shut up and let the man cry, for goodness' sake. So, instead of lecturing his sibling on the faults of the human scum, Knives patted his shoulder and hugged his brother close, a motion he hadn't done for 138 years.

Vash pulled away abruptly, and smiled a dashing smile, wiping away the tearstains already growing tight on his cheeks.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses about the humans, Knives, they're not that bad are they?" he stated, oblivious to the statement Knives had been reinforcing a moment ago. Knives' eyes narrowed and the happiness they had portrayed mere seconds ago faded away to the icy waters of his gaze. 

"I haven't changed my opinion of the vermin" he stated loudly "they are the source of our sister's pain, and must be exterminated in order for our race to survive."

"Knives, don't start. You both have different views and-" Rhianne started.

"Stay out of this!" Knives snapped harshly at her, wrenching his hand from hers "you don't know anything about this situation, so stay out of it before you really make me angry!" he snarled.

"Killing people is the easy way out. Working out a solution to your problem without resorting to taking a life is much more honorable than killing thousands of innocent people" Vash stated quietly. Knives turned on him again "what?" Vash stood up taller, probably trying to look brave against his sibling.

"I said that you're taking the easy way out. There must be a way to save our sisters without hurting people all the time." He barked, trying to sound more confident than he really was.

"Must you start this foolish babble again, Vash? I thought you would have forgotten that wretched woman and moved on." Knives spat back. Vash shot him a dark look "don't bring Rem into this, Knives. I don't want to have to fight you here, not around all the people."

"Ah yes, the vermin you love so dearly. They're like little pets to you, aren't they? Animals you have to look after and take care of. Tell me, wouldn't you like to be rid of the responsibility of looking after them? Wouldn't you like to loose your title as Vash The Stampede, the merciless killer that is wanted dead by the entire planet?" the wheat-haired plant crooned, sarcasm lacing his words.

"It's because of you that I have my title, Knives" Vash shot back, his cheeks growing hot and his eyes welling up again "and they need my help! They can't fend for themselves on this planet, and you know that!"

"So they leech off our sisters' life." Knives muttered angrily. Rhianne grasped his arm "that's enough Knives" she stated firmly. He shot her a dark look.

" And what do you know? You didn't go through what my brother and I did. You weren't beaten simply because you were different! You weren't discriminated against!"

"Who says?" Rhianne shot back "maybe I wasn't on the ship, but being the one of the two plants living outside the bulbs on an planet full populated wasn't that easy either. People constantly looked at you sideways, as if you were going to have a fit and blast them to oblivion! I wasn't beaten, but so what? I lost my brother to one of them! You still have Vash!" she wrenched her hand in Vash's direction and snarled "you spent less than two years being abused, and got back at your abuser in the worst was possible- you killed him and half the damn humans onboard those ships. That was hardly any time compared to the decades my brother Corrin and I spent in the midst of the humans! You figure you're so hard done by, but you've barely scratched the surface! Can you imagine being turned down for a job because it's a known fact you're a plant? Has anyone ever spat on you as they passed you on the street? Have you ever been called a 'genetic mistake' or a 'demon from hell'? You make it seem as if you went through a lot, but you know nothing." She paused to regain her breath, and Knives asked in a tone as innocent as a hungry hyena.

"Then why don't you agree with me? Shouldn't they be disposed of?" he said smoothly. Vash shot him a dark look and opened his mouth to speak, but Rhianne beat him to it.

"No, because then we would be like them. As a superior species, it's our obligation to look past the racial differences between us and make peace with our creators. As at superior breed it's our duty to help them to survive. Because it would be a tragedy if a species as innovative as they should be wiped out." She stated. Knives laughed a short, barking laugh 

"Now I see how things work: when one person dies, it's a tragedy; when a thousand people die, it's a statistic; and when a plant dies; people mourn only for their loss, not that of the life of our sisters'. We are treated like animals by our creators simply because they don't understand us. It's so ironic, that the race they created will be their exterminators, don't you think so, brother dear?" he finished, turning to his sibling

Vash turned to him and said nothing for fear of provoking his twin. Finally, after a long pause, Rhianne managed to slip her arm though Knives' and catch his attention before another potential battle could be initiated.

"Look at the state of my uniform" she stated disdainfully "I need to wash it. Knives, will you do me a favor?" Knives turned away from Vash, who smiled thankfully at her.

"What is it you want me to do?" Knives asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"I need some clothes. Like, real clothes." She stated firmly, squeezing his arm. Knives looked disgustedly at her "you want me to associate with the vermin?" he wrinkled his nose.

"Yes, I do" Rhianne sighed "or else you'll have to smell stinky old me for a long time." Knives was about to point out that he didn't think she stunk, but avoided it for fear of showing any more weakness towards her in front of his brother.

"I suppose…" he sighed reluctantly. Rhianne smiled and clapped her hands "yeah! Thanks!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, and Knives tried to ignore his brother in the room as she did so.

"Come on! I love to shop!" she cried, jumping out of his grasp and heading towards the doorway. She swung around it and out of sight, leaving the two plants alone for a moment. But within a second of her departure, Rhianne's head popped into view "come on guys! I want to go shopping!" she prompted, then disappeared again in to the alley. Vash sighed and turned to his brother "don't all women?" he joked as they exited.

A/N: Yes, very quick change of topic there; don't worry, I'll explain it later


	22. Shopping and Contemplation

Disclaimer: Ah, the joy of fanfics; writing stories, allowing your creative spirit to flourish and be nurtured by the characters whose lives you conduct… too bad I don't own any of them… 

Chapter Twenty- Two: Shopping and Contemplation

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates, school keeps me busy ^_^

Rhianne walked casually out into the semi-crowded street, avoiding the stared her stained and overall unusual attire drew as she wandered down the sandy avenue. Her hair blew lightly in the breeze, partially restrained by her, now somewhat messy, ponytail. She brushed by a few old women carrying small clutch purses and still wearing their aprons over their skirts, looked towards a small store with a little porch overshadowing its doorway. She walked a little towards it, examining the clothes displayed on the other side of the glass. The dresses were all rather puffy, and lacy, as if someone had decided halfway through making a doily that they were going to sew fabric to it and make a dress. None really appealed to her, and the same went for the rowdy young men standing loitering outside the doors. They hooted at her and one, a tall, muscular man of no more than twenty approached her, a sly smile upon his thin lips.

"Hey cutie" he started, placing his hand on her shoulder "me and the fellas were wondering if we could treat you to a drink." Rhianne shot him a glare "no thanks. I think I'm a little old for you." She scoffed and brushed his hand off. But he refused to be dismissed, and clamped his hand around her wrist.

"You know, it's not very often that a pretty gal like you comes around without a man." The man stated, smiling slyly. A hand clamped itself onto his shoulder "yes, you're right. And unfortunately for you, that happens to be my girl you're talking to." Knives sneered at him. The man gulped and released his hold on Rhianne's wrist, moving himself from Knives' grasp.

"Heh, sorry buddy. Won't let it happen again." He said warily, and the men nodded to emphasize his point. Rhianne smiled snidely at him as he slunk back to the porch, casting dark glares at her and her male companion, much to the amusement of the other men.

Rhianne felt Knives clasp her hand in his "you shouldn't be associating with the likes of them. You are far too good for vermin men." Knives stated loudly enough for Vash to hear.

Rhianne sighed "Knives, the reason I changed the subject in the first place was to keep you from going on an insane killing spree. As much as I love to debate with you, it was pretty obvious that the situation wasn't going to get any better; so I decided to avoid a dangerous outcome by changing the subject." She explained.

"Ah, so that explains your sudden change in attitude!" Vash piped up from behind them. Knives looked over his shoulder at his brother "you two will be the death of me" he sighed. 

"Nope, that would be your pride." Rhianne uttered under her breath. Knives shot her a look "I'm going to ignore that" he stated ominously, emphasizing that he really wanted to slap her for the insult. The female plant smiled at him, she appreciated that he was trying to be nice.

She tightened her grip on Knives' hand and moved him over to a shop window boasting a few sets of clothes she rather liked, causing the male plant to sigh in exasperation. 

"Must we do this? I could make you some things without having to associate with the likes of-oof!" he grunted as Vash walked into him. Knives whirled on his brother "what was that for?" he demanded. Vash smiled weakly

"There was a pretty girl over there and I couldn't stop staring at her… so I accidentally bumped into you, I'm sorry." He said warily, as though he wasn't sure what his sibling's actions would be. To his surprise, Knives said nothing, and Rhianne's words replaced the ones he didn't speak "don't worry about it Vash. He's okay; aren't you Knives?" she inquired, squeezing his arm. Knives nodded and smiled lightly at his brother, as if the motion was something he hadn't done in a long time. 

"So, are we going to go in or what?" Rhianne finally piped up after they had stood in silence for a few moments. Knives nodded reluctantly "I suppose. Are you coming, Vash?" he asked, turning towards the other plant "Vash?"

But the red-coated gunman wasn't paying attention, as he had caught sight of another attractive woman walking down the street, and had turned his head to watch her go by. Knives sighed in frustration "Vash!" he stated, his voice displaying severe annoyance "you already have a pet, certainly you don't need another-" Rhianne clamped her hand over his mouth 

"What he means is 'go ahead, meet us at" she paused to look for a rendezvous point, al the while ignoring Knives' glares from behind her hand "that restaurant over there in an hour." She pointed to a little restaurant across the street. Vash's aqua orbs followed her hand and he smiled thankfully at her before bounding off in search of the woman. Knives shook his hand free of her grasp

"What was that for? He's going to get himself into trouble, why bother?" he asked in frustration. Rhianne smiled sweetly at him "sometimes it's nice to do little things for people." She stated before pulling him into the shop.

The inside of the store smelled like fabric softener, a pleasant smell that provided Rhianne with a strong sense of nostalgia. As she smelled the scent, she smiled and remembered home, a place that seemed so far away and yet so close at the same time. 

Knives noticed her daze, and squeezed her arm lightly "I would like to finish my associations with the vermin as soon as possible" he stated firmly, and she smiled at him a little.

"Sure, sorry" she responded. Knives glanced her way "what was that blank look on your face for? Are you alright?" he moved to put his hand on her forehead, but Rhianne swatted it away, blushing at his concern

"No, I was just thinking of home. My house smelled like this" she waved a hand around for emphasis and Knives followed it with his eyes. "Really?" he inquired. Rhianne smiled at the fond memory "yeah, I miss home sometimes, you know."

"I don't understand why" Knives sniffed "it was overrun with vermin, so why would you even want to live on a place like that to begin with?" It was less of a question than he had originally intended, but Rhianne caught drift of where he was going with the topic and avoided it by quickly pulling him over to a rack of clothes to examine the shirts displayed there.

"You like to wear _this_?" Knives asked, holding up an overly frilly shirt and wrinkling his nose. Rhianne laughed "no, it's too frilly for me. I like stuff like this" she walked over to a rack in another section of the store and picked up a light blue shirt. Knives' eyes measured the shirt, and he nodded "seems good enough" he stated. Rhianne went over to another rack and picked up a pair of tan leather pants and held them up to her legs

"A little baggy, but good nonetheless" she stated, and folded them, along with the shirt, over her arm. She walked over to another shirt, a red one this time, held it up against herself, and folded it over her arm. She turned to Knives "do you like red?" she inquired casually, moving over to a pale yellow shirt. Knives looked falsely diabolical "only when its blood red" he stated mock-evilly. Yet, to Rhianne, it didn't seem as though he was joking. She brushed the mundane thoughts from her mind and picked up a pair of baggy black pants. They reached the floor even while being held above her navel. She shook her head and put the pants back. Knives nodded approvingly.

"I didn't like them anyway" he offered. Rhianne laughed a little, and picked up a few other shirts and a pair of more well-fitting black pants and headed to the register, where a young woman in her late teens sat, filing her nails and chewing gum in an open-mouthed fashion that reminded Rhianne of a cow. Her blonde hair was in tightly curled ringlets that looked frizzed and as though she had gone overkill with the curling iron. Her deep brown eyes were almond-shaped, and hinted that she dyed her hair blonde, because of the lack of contrast between her hair and her olive skin tone. 

"Yeah?" she asked as they approached "I'd like to buy these, please." Rhianne turned to Knives "you have enough, don't you?" she asked quietly. Knives sighed "if I didn't would I allow you to shop?" 

"Good point" she stated before placing the clothes on the counter in front of the woman "How much does all this come to?" she asked. The woman cocked an eyebrow "30$$" she paused and then added ruefully "paying for your man, are you? You shouldn't buy him everything you know, he'll take advantage of it."

Rhianne's hand grasped Knives' and felt a few bills and three coins slide into her palm. She placed them on the counter to the woman, accompanied with a glare from both her and Knives.

"These happen to be for me." Rhianne stated, scooping her clothes into one of the available paper bags. The woman guffawed loudly, a sound that resembled the squawking of birds "those are men's clothes! Don't tell me you plan on walking around in those!" she snorted as she laughed and Rhianne had to restrain herself form slapping the annoying woman

"Well you see" she started "I'm buying men's clothes because the clothes in this store look like doilies." She spat icily and turned and walked stiffly out the door, followed by a snickering Knives.

"So you knew all along?" she demanded, about-facing, her eyes meeting his. Knives cut short a laugh and a tiny, somewhat embarrassed "yes" escaped his lips. He waited for her to explode, but she did nothing of the sort.

"Cool." She stated casually and turned to go to the restaurant. Knives' hand on her shoulder pulled her back a little, and he stepped to her side.

"You aren't angry with me?" he asked concernedly. Rhianne smiled "Knives, I've shopped with Corrin thousands of times, don't you think I knew men's clothes when I saw them?" she laughed "of course I knew! But I figured it was either this" she motioned to her outfit "of those" she motioned to a group of walking pom-poms nearby. Knives made a noise of understanding "I see." He stated, and took her hand. The motion surprised her a little, but she allowed him to lead her to a table on the veranda of the restaurant and pull her chair out. She shook her head

"I'm going to go get changed in the bathroom, I'll be right back." She stated before leaving Knives to himself.

Feeling a little flushed, Knives seated himself on one of the wrought iron chairs and placed his feet on the chair next to him, saving it for Rhianne when she got back. As he did so, it occurred to him that he was acting less and less like his old self. He chuckled quietly, a week ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead holding a woman's hand. He sighed and closed his eyes against the noonday sunlight. This was so strange, the feelings he was experiencing, the words he said, the way he acted, it was all so new to him; yet all so familiar. But that couldn't be, because he had never felt any sort of feelings like these; not even for Legato. For a moment, he felt remorseful of his old servant, and how quickly he had been forgotten. He had tried so very hard to please him, and had succeeded greatly beyond the standards Knives had set out for him; although the plant would never admit to it, he had actually cried, alone in the darkness of his ship, for his lost pet. Yet, he speculated, Rhianne was more than that. She was a plant, and therefore was elevated from the position of pet to the rank of equal. 

He heard a few feet walk by, and the sound of chattering female voices reached his ears.

"Yes, he's really cute isn't he?"

"Oh yes, the one in the red coat is rather handsome"

"But a bit of a baka, don't you think?" 

The chatter continued as the girls walked away, and Knives thought of how naïve this sub-species was. They went on, living their pointless lives, leeching off the lives of his sisters; the thought sickened him. He would destroy them all. Make them bleed the life that was meant to be that of his sisters; he would make them pay for their sins against his family. They would die slowly, painfully, feeling the life slowly seep out of them to feed the bugs that dote the sandy ground beneath them; just like his sisters. He thought of all the plants he had witnessed die during his lifetime, never to free themselves from those that enslaved them. One Plant Angel in particular, Crysiana had been her name, had died before him. Never had such a sight struck him the way that seeing her die did. Her body, frail and weak, with her bones protruding grotesquely from her shoulders, knees, ribcage, anywhere where her joints bent. Her hair, which had wafted so luminously around her delicate face the first time he had met her, now hung lifelessly, thinning strands clinging to her face and neck limply. Her wings, once magnificent plumage that sprung from her shoulder blades, drooped around her, the feathers floating around the nothingness of the bulb. Her fingers, the smoothness of her knuckles dried away by the strain to calluses, scratched helplessly at the interior of the bulb, pleading to him to make the hurting stop, to make her better. Her childish pleadings tugged at his head and he had cried, laid his head in his hands and had cried, watching his sister die before his very eyes.

Idly, from behind his closed lids, he heard Rhianne return. It was obvious it was she, the male plant could sense her energy as she approached. He opened his eyes lazily, as she stood before him.

"Do you think I look okay?" She inquired, turning around. Knives regarded her outfit and judged his answer. 

She was wearing the red shirt and black pants, a rather nice style combination in Knives' opinion. The red shirt was a good fit, it rode up a little as she moved her arms about, but Knives didn't mind. She had shoved the black pants down so that they rested on her hips, and when she raised her arms above her head, most of her navel was exposed. Her scuffed boots poked out from the bottoms of the pants and added an air of causality to her ensemble. Her hair was slung back up in her signature ponytail at the back of her head, and her earrings glinted in the sun. 

"You look great" he replied promptly, surprised at the truth in his words. She smiled and placed the bag at his feet "good, but I need to go and pick something up, can I have about 5$$?" she held out her hand and Knives reluctantly placed the money in it. Within a second the change had been shoved into the large pockets in her pants.

"I assume I am to wait here?" he inquired mildly. She nodded "yep, I'll only be gone a moment" she turned her back to him and walked a few steps, then paused and called back "don't kill anyone while I'm gone!" Knives couldn't help but grin as he closed his eyes again and listened to her footsteps depart. All around him voices of the vermin inhabiting the city chirped around him like irritating birds. 

He sighed heavily and folded his hands behind his head. Even with the people bustling around him, he felt terribly alone. Alienated from everyone because he was superior. Had anyone ever stopped to think that he didn't want to be alone? That the face he presented to the world was really a façade, a mask to shield himself from the cruelties of the Human race. It was true, he hated them with a passion so deep that it flowed in his very blood, but that didn't necessarily mean that he wanted to be alone, either. He had two very contradictory feelings that went hand-in-hand with each other, and he had never thought he would be able to rid himself of the impenetrable loneliness that had plagued him for most of his life. And Vash, ah yes, the brother he loved dearly enough to put the happiness of his sibling above all else, even his own content. For Vash he suffered, made the vermin suffer, and caused his heart the greatest pain of all. Yes, it was true, he had had hid Gung-Ho Guns for a short period of time, but he had chosen to remain separated from them, because even thought they were the best fighters on the planet, they were vermin nonetheless, and therefore he had wanted nothing to do with them. Or did he? 

There had been a very short period of time, towards the very end of Legato Bluesummer's life, that he had become very attached to him. The golden light in the eyes of the blue-haired demon had struck something deep within him that had yet to be awoken. It had been then, for the very first time in the male plants illustrious career as a killer, then he had considered leaving the piece of scum alive should he so wish it. But with Legato, it wasn't the case. He was devoted and loyal to a fault, and wished only for his own death so that he could satisfy his Master's plans, and the eternal suffering for Vash the Stampede. And because of his unwavering loyalty had earned a place, embedded in his Master's heart. 

Knives sniffled, grateful that Rhianne wasn't there to see him and to sense the emotions he felt. Because, even in a bustling town like the one he found himself in, Knives felt utterly, completely alone. Despite the fact the his brother was somewhere in the city, chasing the big-bosomed vermin he adored so dearly, and Rhianne was off running her errand, he still felt like he was lost in an ocean of inferiority.

_It's the first time I've felt this alone, and I remember wishing that someone would cure my pain, and isn't it ironic, that her, the last person I fathomed would be the one to free me from my loneliness. _Knives mused mentally to himself as he heard Rhianne return, and the feeling of loneliness swept away from him like a leaf in an autumn breeze.

"Back so soon?" he said conversationally, opening one eye and regarding the female plant; who was carrying a small box in her hands. She smiled, flashing her brilliantly white teeth "yeah, it didn't take long" Knives nodded in the direction of the box as she sat down

"Wait 'till Vash gets back, then you'll see"

As if on queue, Vash wandered into view, his hands in the pickets of his long red coat. Beneath his fallen hair, his cheeks blushed a shade so deep that it nearly rivaled his coat. He sat down next to Rhianne and hung his head.

"She turned you down didn't she?" Knives asked snidely. Vash sniffled. Rhianne gave Knives a little shove, and was rewarded with a glare 

"Don't worry Vash. I have donuts, see?" she placed the box on the table and opened it, revealing six rows of assorted donuts. A bright gleam came to Vash's eyes as he lifted his head and dug into the box with gusto. Knives couldn't help but laugh along with Rhianne as he picked up the menu and offered her lunch.


	23. Calm Before The Storm

Disclaimer: *looks menacing* Who dares imply I own Trigun? *points at random person* YOU! How dare you say such things! *person erupts in flames and LL wipes her hands* there, now no one can say I own Trigun.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Calm Before The Storm

Rhianne opened the menu quietly, rather amazed at Knives' offer of lunch. Although she had been half-expecting it, one could never tell with him. Her aqua orbs scanned the page rapidly, and her eyes settled on the salad section. She folded her menu on the table and turned to Knives, who was busy folding the paper menu. She watched his nimble fingers move and bend the paper in precise, practiced movements until a small winged horse sat in his palm. Her eyes widened a little as her gaze moved from the paper animal to his face.

"You can do origami?" she asked, dumbfounded. Knives' eyebrows crept up his forehead a little "I can do what?" he asked, dumbfounded at the term she had used. Rhianne pointed to the little winged horse in his hand

"That's called origami. It's an ancient Japanese hobby that involves the folding of paper to create animals, buildings, and even people." She explained. Knives looked down at the little animal in his palm "oh" he said quietly "I just began folding them one day when I got bored" he stated casually, and crumpled the little horse between his fingers and threw it to the ground.

"You know, that trash contributes to the amount of work our sisters have to do" Rhianne pointed out "you should be more considerate" Knives' cheeks reddened and he glared at her before picking up the paper. 

"Shut up woman" he stated icily. Vash looked up from his donuts "hey, be nice Knives" he stated, before going back to gorging himself. Both Rhianne and Knives sighed simultaneously, an act that made them both laugh a little. 

"I'm having a Caesar salad, with a glass of water, is that alright?" Rhianne asked conversationally to the male plant next to her. Knives shrugged "it's fine. I'm not eating anything." Rhianne cocked her head to the side 

"Why not? Aren't you hungry?" she inquired. Knives shook his head "I have no interest in eating spider food." Rhianne sighed and Vash offered him a donut.

"No Vash, I'm fine thank you." Knives responded promptly and Vash shoved the donut into his mouth, perfectly content not to have to share. The female smiled at his actions, and signaled a waiter, who sauntered over casually, taking his time. Ignoring Knives' smart remark about how the spider was wasting her precious time, she opened her menu and indicated which meal she wanted, and he wrote it down and walked away, Rhianne's gaze following him. Knives moved his view to follow hers, and turned to her, scowling.

"Why are you still looking at that spider? Vermin like that is not worthy of your attention" he scolded. Rhianne smiled as the boy disappeared into the indoor part of the restaurant "he has a cute ass" she stated smilingly. Knives sighed heavily and Vash chuckled through a mouthful of donuts.

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Two streets down from where the merry threesome sat, much more evil deeds were being planned. 

Between Angie's Fine Fabrics and Roy's Bordello (a favorite haunt of the deceased Hornfreak), sat a slender alleyway, hidden from the bright light of the day; where many a misdeed had been done. At the end of this alleyway sat a large smoke gray warehouse. Unused for years, it had fallen into disrepair. Its gray paint peeled, like skin hanging off metal bone, the roof sported several holes where the metal had rusted and collapsed, and the large door hung ajar, like a gaping mouth awaiting its next unsuspecting victim. But the shadowy, limping figure was no unsuspecting victim, for the wounded man that crept through the doorway had been there many a time, and the interior was no surprise to him.

Several plush chairs were placed around the room, and the stone floor was covered in overlapping tapestries in styles of people long forgotten. A few men sat in the chairs, talking quietly or cleaning one of their multiple guns. They glanced up briefly as he entered, then returned to their own thoughts, dismissing him. At the far end of the warehouse sat a large wooden desk, with a wrought iron lamp and several cards, being used by the man sitting behind the deck in an overstuffed chair. His chocolate hair parted on the side, his eyes hidden behind black sunglasses, he wore a stately black topcoat with matching black pants and newly-waxed shoes; at his hip rode a large revolver. 

Before the desk were two simple folding chair, one of which the newcomer slumped down into heavily. The man behind the desk looked up from his cards

"Yes? Can we be of service to you?" he asked snidely, as if the likes of the man seated in the folding chair was below him. The man grunted a crude response, and then clutched at his gut as if it pained him. The man at the desk peered over the his cards to see blood drip from the wound onto the intricately woven tapestry beneath the chair. He glared "what happened to you?" he asked severely, as though it was no concern to him.

"I was shot by a goddamn plant" the man uttered "one of them was Vash the Stampede." As if on queue, all the men in the warehouse looked up at him, the expression on their faces identical; wondering if the dying man spoke the truth. 

"Are you positive? I don't need to running after some commonplace criminal" the man behind the desk stated coldly, ignoring the bleeding man completely "yes, the plant-bitch said so herself" the man gurgled, choking on the blood rising in his throat and clutched at his wound, trying to hold the torn hole closed.

"I see" the man said, rising from behind the desk and walking leisurely beside the wounded man in the chair. He leaned down and removed his glasses, allowing his blue eyes to peer down at the crimson blood rushing from the wound in the others' gut. He extended a finger and poked it tenderly, causing the seated man to wince.

"Leo, how do I know you aren't lying to me? I can't gather my men without a little… persuasion." He grinned. Leo glared darkly at him "I have nothing, I'm gonna die you asshole. Do a dying man a favor and kill the monsters that did this to me." Blood had begun to trickle from his lips now.

"You have something of value" the man in the suit proclaimed, smiling evilly at the fatally wounded cook "it's of rather little value, but it'll pay for the destruction of the plants." Leo looked up at the man, a pained expression lining his face.

"I'll do whatever it takes, just get rid of those freaks in our town!" Leo nearly shouted. The other man grinned maniacally and thrust his finger into the cook's gut, causing him to cry out and for fresh blood to mix with the old "very well, as you wish it" the man stated darkly "Gunter, come here and…. Help our guest pay his dues, won't you?"

In response, a tall, muscular man with a neck larger than his head lumbered up behind the cook and pulled out a tiny pistol. The man in the suit leaned forward and whispered the last words the cook would ever hear into his ear:

"Your life for theirs" and only then, mere seconds before his brains were splattered over the cards on the man in the topcoat's desk, that he was going to die.

Then the shot rang out.

Leo's body fell limply to the floor, the thick rug rapidly soaking up his blood. The man in the topcoat kicked him harshly with his shoe "what a waste of flesh he was" then turned to Gunter "I want another carpet in here by the time we get back from finishing off those freaks, and" he booted Leo's blood-soaked corpse forcefully "get rid of this."

He strode to a large cabinet next to the doors and flung open the doors dramatically, then turned to his posse "men, get your guns" he commanded before taking a few guns for himself and backing away, allowing the men to access their weapons "today, the plants will die." 

A/N: Ehe! Cliffhangers! Sorry it was so short, I wanted to leave you hanging! ^_^ Don't forget to R&R! Until next time! LL ^.~


	24. The Storm

Disclaimer: *jumps up and down while holding a small box* Yay! I've got Trigun! I've got Trigun! I've got- wait… this isn't the Deeds To Trigun, this is a DVD……. *looks sad* oh well, no Trigun for me today -_-

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Storm

A/N: Hey again! Another advertisement from me for the great Trigun fanfic, Gunpowder and Blood, by Chibi Kenie Loves Her Drum! Thanks for the advert in your latest chappy! Also, sorry it's rather short, time has been elusive lately.

"..And that's when I knew I 'd fallen in love with her." Vash finished. Rhianne stared at him, enraptured, her eyes starry "that's _so_ sweet!" she gushed, throwing her arms around him. Vash blushed a little and hugged back. The girl pulled herself from him and turned to Knives, who was looking skyward, moving one of the strange vulture-like, nameless, birds that inhabited the planet with his mind. 

"Isn't that cute Knives?" Rhianne smiled, clasping her hands together and tilting her head to the side a little. Knives looked from the bird to her, an expression of pure boredom smeared across his face "I try not to listen to his drivel" he stated sourly before moving his eyes back to the bird in the sky.

"I find it ridiculous that he can feel any emotion but disgust for a spider like her" he sneered, not removing his eyes from the sky. Vash glared at him, while Rhianne moved to his side, gripping his forearm "but you don't mind having emotions towards me, do you?" she asked coyly. Knives narrowed his eyes for a moment, and large white splatter appeared on the forehead of a man across the street as the bird flew away. Knives smiled and turned to her

"Your case is much different; you are a superior being like myself, therefore making it acceptable for me to feel any emotion towards you." Rhianne nuzzled his shoulder.

"I think I should be flattered" she smiled and leaned back halfway, before cocking her head to one side. She stayed that way for a moment, before jumping from her seat and knocking Knives to the floorboards. 

She landed atop him, her hands sprawled over his chest and her torso pressed against his. Her head rose from its place between his head and his neck, looking around frantically. She jumped up and glanced nervously around. Knives glared at her darkly "what was that for?" he demanded, rising to his feet. Rhianne swiveled around and looked behind her, narrowing her eyes at a nearby building. Knives snatched her arm and pulled her violently towards him 

"I said, what was that for?" he hissed, obviously trying not to shout. Rhianne's eyes traveled past his eyes, which bored into hers, and she paused for a moment, narrowed her eyes again "well? What is your explanation this time, woman?" he snarled. Without answering, Rhianne extended her hand past his head and clenched her teeth.

"Look at your feet" she hissed through her clenched teeth. Knives' eyes moved to the wooden boards, and saw the small hole, still smoking, that could have only been made by a bullet. Swiveling around, he saw why her hand was extended past his skull: a bullet hovered inches from his head. Rhianne sighed, and the bullet, shiny in the sunlight, fell with a hollow thud to the boards. 

From his left, a shot rang out, and he was tackled to the floor again. He glared at Rhianne, who had jumped to her feet, eyes searching frantically for the sniper. 

"Would you stop doing that woman?" he snarled, jumping to his feet as well "I can defend myself from the spiders, I've been fending for my brother and myself my whole life!" 

The sound of another shot cut through the humid air, reaching his ears just in time for him to duck out of the way of a large bullet. It flew over his head, exploding on the wooden veranda of the restaurant, showering the trio with bits of wood and sand. 

"Vash!" Rhianne cried from her place beneath a table. The blonde was kneeling over a few feet away. He turned to face her, worry clouding his aqua orbs, and blood was smeared across his forehead.

"Are you alright?" she shouted, trying to be heard over the rattle of a machinegun, extending her hand to stop the shower of bullets directed at her and Knives, whose hands were clenched firmly around his black colt.

"I'm fine!" Vash shouted back "it's her that needs help!" he moved around to display a small child cradled in his arms. Her short black hair lay, matted with blood, across her blood-smeared face. Her small frame shuddered violently, causing more blood to gush from the wound in her neck to spill onto her sunshine yellow shirt and leak to her sky blue shorts. A little bag was clenched in her shaking hands as she turned and looked at Rhianne, and the plant could already see the spark of life fading in her pupils. 

"Bring her here!" she commanded, extending her other hand towards him and thickening the air around him to create a bubble. Vash got up slowly, making sure not to hurt the child, and grabbed a nearby table, pushing it up in front of himself as a shield. 

He plopped down before her heavily, as though he shared the child's pain. He placed the child on the ground as a loud shot rang out from behind her. She swirled around and Vash looked up to see the barrel of Knives' gun smoking, a malicious grin smeared across his face.

"Got him right between his spider eyes" he smiled, and in an instant he had set his sights on a man atop the hotel across the street. In a flash, Vash had latched himself to his brother's arm

"Knives, no! You can't kill them!" he shouted over the gunfire and the hollow sounds of the bullets falling to the ground against Rhianne's mental shield. The ice-eyed plant glared darkly at his sibling "then they will kill you Vash" he spat before turning back to his target, nailing him in the shoulder. He whirled on Vash, knocking him in the head with the butt of his gun "you naïve little pacifist! He is an insignificant piece of filth! Think nothing of him and help me!" 

Vash glared up at his brother through the crimson liquid leaking into his eyes from the gnash the gun had caused on his forehead, and allowed his shining tears to mix with it before sighing and standing. He wiped the blood out of his eyes with his gun arm, disregarding the fact that the reason he had it was standing next to him, and took aim at the kneecap of another sniper atop the hotel.

He pulled on the trigger reluctantly, wincing as the man cried out and fell out of sight. He turned back to Rhianne and the child, trying to ignore Knives' gleeful laughter each time he pulled the trigger.

"Is she gonna be okay?" he asked hopefully, not wanting to hear the answer. Rhianne turned to him and sighed heavily "see this? It's not good" she pointed to where the blood was coming from: a clean puncture in the little girl's throat. Vash winced. Rhianne sighed.

"Here's the bullet" she stated, wiping away some of the blood, revealing the raw pink tissue beneath, and the glittering black bullet lodged within "if we don't get this out, she'll die." Vash looked anxiously at her "can you do it?" he asked helplessly. Rhianne sighed.

"She might die in the process, Vash." She held the child close, feeling the blood seep through her shirt, warm against her skin. The girl shifted, and looked up at the female plant, chocolate eyes filled with wonder. An indiscernible, sickening gurgle came from within her throat, but her mental voice rung loud and clear in the plant's mind

_Are you an angel?_

Tears sprung in Rhianne's eyes and she hugged the child closer, burying her face in her bloody hair 

__

No dear child, we don't want you to see those just yet…


	25. Waiting to Operate

Disclaimer: I just watched the episode where Vash killed Legato… and I'm not so sure I want to own Trigun anymore…. :s

Chapter Twenty-Five: 

A/N: This is sort of an in-between chapter, just to give you guys a bit of insight as to what Knives is thinking right now. Also, kasianne asked for a link to Gunsmoke and Blood, so here it is: Enjoy the fic! (PS, Chibi Kenie, I hope you don't mind I put the link here, feel free to bitch at me if necessary ^_^)

A small sandy breeze had picked up, causing grains of sand to stick to the sweat lining Knives' forehead. He blinked, trying to keep his vision focused on the spider atop the clothing store they had exited just fifteen minutes earlier. He held his colt steady, feeling the cold metal beneath his gloved fingers, and pulled the trigger. He felt a rush as the bullet sped through the air and drilled itself into the skull of the vermin. It embedded itself in the spider's skull, spurting a fountain of bright red blood into the air, the crimson liquid shining like diamonds in the sunlight.

Knives grinned maliciously. No one was going to hurt one of his kind. No one.

From out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of a spider creeping towards them. Without hesitation, he swiveled to his right and blew the vermin's brains out; scattering the grayish, blood-covered goo over the sandy streets. Another caught his attention, and he pulled the trigger almost without thinking, smiling at the screams of the insect and the scent of blood that came his way with the dusty breeze. 

He glanced behind him to see his woman kneeling over an infant, his brother close by, keeping an eye out for assailants from behind and taking out their knees or shoulders whenever he got the chance. Knives rolled his eyes and snorted as another spider hit the ground, the life faded in it's eyes already and his shiny black bullet lodged in his skull.

A shot rang out from behind him and swiveled around to see Vash kneeling next to Rhianne, his arm twisted behind him, his gun smoking. A spider lay twitching on the ground, clutching at both leg and shoulder wounds. His gaze traveled to his sibling's face, and saw the worry and hurt it portrayed. He was pained because he had hurt the vermin. Pitiful. How his brother had survived all these years with his pacifistic views, Knives would never understand.

He heard a small gasp from behind him, and turned around after taking out another spider atop the same clothing store. Rhianne was on her knees, crouching over a small child. The little girl's head rested in her lap, her short black hair spilled over her lap, hanging in small clumps stuck together with drying blood. Her small, innocent hazel eyes were quickly loosing their luster as the child gazed up at his woman, a look of awe and fear taking up residence in them. His eyes traveled to the gunshot wound that had torn open her throat. A large bubble of blood swelled up over the tear and exploded with a hideous pop as she attempted to breathe. The child reached up curiously to her throat and prodded at the tissue tenderly, resulting in a coughing fit. Rhianne leaned closer and kissed the girl's forehead.

"Don't do that sweetie, you're bad enough as it is" she crooned softly, her voice barely audible over the gunshots constantly firing around them. Her hand flew up behind her and stopped the rain of bullets from behind, while the unmistakable sound of Vash's gun rang out as an afterthought, nailing the shooter, who was behind a trash can behind the street, in the elbow. Rhianne's attention shifted back to the girl, placing her hand over the wound and closing her eyes.

Knives, his curiosity getting the best of him, moved closer to examine what she was doing. He could feel a power resonating from her hands and entering the child, but was unsure of what she was doing. He leaned closer, taking a second to nail another spider between his beady insect eyes. The child had closed her eyes, and seemed in a state of supreme calmness. Rhianne opened her eyes and smiled a little at him, before throwing up her hand and stopping a barrage of bullets that would have drilled into his skull from behind. 

"What did you do?" Knives asked curiously, regarding the child and her sleep-like demeanor. Rhianne placed her hand lightly on the girl's forehead and bit her lip. 

"I put her into a coma. I clotted both sides of her brain and paralyzed her. It's perfectly safe, all I did was halt the blood flow to her brain and caused her to have a stroke, putting her into a comatose state so I can operate while she's conscious, because that would cause her a great deal of pain." Knives turned around and shot another sniper across the street 

"Why did you do that? It would be much more fun to watch the spider squirm and scream in agony." Rhianne sighed and pulled her pack closer to herself, rummaging through it for a moment before producing a small pair of tweezers. "These will have to do" she sighed. Knives cocked an eyebrow "do for what?"

"Well I have to get the bullet out, don't I?" Rhianne rolled her eyes "no you don't" Knives stated, holding her wrist "she is a spider, the vermin killing our sisters. Leave her be and help me kill off these nuisances so we can be on our way" The female sot him a dark look.

"Her life may be meaningless to you, but she's a child and I can't let her die like this." With that said, she took to the task of picking small clumps of dried blood and skin out of the wound, so as to better access the bullet lodged within the raw pink flesh.

Knives stared at her for a moment, rather unable to comprehend her fascination with saving the child's life. The girl was just another statistic, a human caught in the crossfire of real life, submitted to the harsh realities of the human lifestyle, just another spider to leech off the life of his sisters. He moved back to his place behind a table, taking aim at an elusive spider atop the hotel. He heard Vash gasp, and saw Rhianne poke the insides of the child's neck with the tweezers.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the seemingly never-ending group of human scum that kept bombarding them with bullets. What was so important about the life of an insect that they had to fawn over a stupid wounded little girl? She was going to die anyway, unless his woman was a miracle worker, so it was just a waste of breath and energy. Just like the spiders which were a waste of flesh and blood, this little girl was a waste of time.

But idly, he pondered what she and his brother saw in the life of the vermin that made them fawn over them in such a disgusting fashion. They were trying to kill them every chance they got; they were leeching the life from his sisters and not thinking that the Plant Angels were suffering because of their selfishness. 

__

It isn't their fault Knives…

Rhianne's mental voice challenged him momentarily, then faded away to the recesses of his mind as she concentrated on removing the bullet from the girl's throat. Knives gritted his teeth and took out his anger by shooting the closest spider multiple times in the chest, smiling as it clutched at the wounds momentarily before dropping to the sandy streets, dead. Knives swore he could see the life fade in his eyes, and laughed. One less spider to kill his innocent butterfly sisters. And so what if they couldn't help but leech off his sisters? They were too stupid to think of any other alternative, so what was the point of sitting around and trying to save them when they would ultimately kill you in the end?

Knives gritted his teeth as a bullet whizzed past him, and heard the clang as it fell heavily to the wooden floor as a result of Rhianne's mental abilities. Idly he decided to have her teach him to do these little mind tricks, for they would be useful when he restarted his genocide plans. 

He turned to say something rash at the female about wasting her time, but stopped when he saw the look of concern in her eyes for the child. He turned back towards the spiders confronting them, and idly wondered if she would be as worried if it was him laying there.


	26. AngelChild

Disclaimer: *looks back at her previous disclaimer* Woah, did I actually say that?….who am I kidding, I'd still own Trigun any day!

Chapter Twenty-Six: Angel-Child

A/N: Yeah, the beginning of this chappy is just a recap of the last one, from Rhianne's POV, but then things get interesting….very interesting ^_^

Rhianne felt the child's small mind try to grapple with what she was going to do. She ran her hand across the little girl's forehead softly, grazing the dried blood with her fingertips and marveling at the mental waves of calmness her touch induced into the girl. She felt the warmth of her body disperse into the girl's body, and felt the child smile.

_What's your name sweetie? _She inquired mentally, stroking the child's hair. She had to get the child calm before sending her into a comatose state or risk loosing brain cells and rendering the child into a permanent vegetal state. 

_Rinoa…_Came the weak mental reply. Rhianne smiled down at the child _that's a beautiful name_. Rinoa smiled softly as a small trickle of blood crept from her mouth down her pale cheek.

_Please pretty angel, make the hurting stop…_ she pleaded weakly. Her hazel eyes bored into Rhianne's aqua ones, still watery and tearing. Rhianne's heart shattered into a million pieces at that moment and she placed her hands over Rinoa's forehead and focused on halting the blood flow to the little girl's brain, ignoring the tears cascading down her cheeks. She closed her eyes heard Knives move closer as Vash moved away to take out another assailant, and she moved to stop a shower of bullets from behind. 

"What did you do?" He asked curiously, and she opened her eyes and smiled a little at him; he was so innocent sometimes. 

"I put her into a coma. I clotted both sides of her brain and paralyzed her. It's perfectly safe, all I did was halt the blood flow to her brain and caused her to have a stroke, putting her into a comatose state so I can operate while she's conscious, because that would cause her a great deal of pain were she awake." She explained. A familiar look crossed Knives' face as he regarded Rinoa, whose face had taken on a placid look, then turned to shoot another gunman. Turning back to her, he smiled a little

"Why did you do that? It would be much more fun to watch the spider squirm and scream in agony." Rhianne sighed. She should have seen that coming. She reached over and rummaged through her pack, which was on the wooden floor next to her. Her hands roamed through her belongings until she found the object of her search. Her slender fingers wrapped around a small metal object, and she produced it triumphantly, resulting in a confused look from Knives.

"These will have to do" she sighed. Knives cocked an eyebrow "do for what?" Rhianne allowed herself to roll her eyes "well, I have to get the bullet out don't I?" Knives snorted 

"No you don't" Knives stated, grabbing her wrist before she could move to dislodge the bullet "she is a spider, the vermin killing our sisters. Leave her be and help me kill off these nuisances so we can be on our way"

"Her life may be meaningless to you, but she's a child and I can't let her die like this." Rhianne shot back, then shook his hand away and proceeded to move a little bit of flesh around before attempting to remove the bullet. Her hand movements were slow, trying to pick out the small, hard dried clumps of blood that were blocking the route to the potentially fatal bullet. 

This was going to be tough, she sighed as her tweezers got caught in a lump of blood. She winced and prodded it gently with her fingernail, successfully dislodging the hunk of hardened fluid. She marveled on how, had she not removed the clump of blood, Rinoa would have died because of it, blood which under any other circumstance, be vital to her life be the very cause of her death. 

She bit her lip as she heard Knives' mind mull over her and Vash's opinions on the value of Rinoa's life. She struggled to stay focused on operation on the child as she felt Knives' anger build towards his brother and his pacifist ways, and couldn't help getting in her two cents.

__

It's not their fault Knives… she allowed herself to point out before quickly escaping form his mind before he could become enraged towards her and ruin any chance she had of saving Rinoa. If Knives proved himself true to form, then he would probably shoot the poor child in the head to get her back for her intrusion of his thoughts.

A bullet whizzed past Knives, headed towards her temple, and she barely had enough time to react, creating a barrier using the air molecules and causing the bullet to clatter to the ground with a hollow, heavy, thud. She sighed angrily as she focused on the bullet in Rinoa's throat. She moved carefully, making sure to move around yet another large hunk of blood that she thought too risky to remove. Her hands moved skillfully, armed with the knowledge learned living in a war-torn society. She moved the tweezers gently in the child's throat, and felt simultaneous waves of nausea, disgust, and relief wash over her as the metal tweezers hit the bullet. She pulled the skin of Rinoa's throat away and managed to get one side of the tweezers around the bullet, hearing the dull scrape of metal against metal and shuddering. She heard Vash move back to her and instructed him to pull a little on the other side of the wound so she could get the other side of the bullet. His gloved hand reached tenderly to her throat and pulled a little. Rhianne sighed. 

"Vash, don't wimp out. You have to touch the tissue and pull it back or Rinoa is going to die." Vash shivered and moved his finger a little into the wound, pulling the flesh back gently, allowing Rhianne to attempt to get her tweezers around the bullet. He watched in fascination and disgust as she moved her finger into the soft pink flesh of the child's throat and pulled more of it back.

"…..Rinoa." He muttered quietly. "What?" Rhianne asked without looking up. Vash sighed a little.

"One of my sisters was named Rinoa. She died shortly after the Great Fall. Crashing onto the planet messed with her mechanics and she only lived a short while. But she lived a painful life. Her resources were limited because of her malfunctions, which drove the hungry humans to make her work even harder to produce. She died three years after the Great Fall, with people at her controls pushing her harder and harder. I was there with Knives when she died. She was just a small Plant Angel then. Her milky skin was gray, her opalescent hair a dull milky color as it floated listlessly around her. Her small childlike frame was battered, her stomach swollen horribly because she had been feeding the humans and not herself. Her near-lifeless eyes struck something deep within me. I knew she was suffering because of my brother, and I felt responsible for it. It was then I swore no children would suffer because of me." He paused and shook his head "but that was an empty promise, thousands of people, the majority children, have suffered because of me." He gazed at the child.

"She won't die. I swear it. Not again Rinoa….not again." He stated as Rhianne pulled the bullet from Rinoa's throat and dropped it disgustedly on the ground. He watched as she moved her hands to cover the girl's throat and close her eyes. 

"Behind you"

Vash whirled to see a beefy man of about thirty duck behind a table. He whipped out his gun, but before he could shoot, a shot that sounded far too much like his rang out and a hole was drilled into the table, accompanied by the final, agonized cry of the man. Vash heard him fall back on the floorboards and watched as his limp hand fell lifelessly into view. He shuddered and turned to his twin.

"Was that really necessary? All you had to do was shoot his shoulders and he would have been-"

"It's much easier, and much more fun to kill them though, _brother dear_" Knives sneered and turned away and nailing another man across the street. "This is too much" the ice-eyed blonde stated. Vash sighed and turned back to Rhianne. "What are you doing?" he asked. 

"I'm healing her" the female plant stated, her eyes still closed. Vash could feel the energy pulsating from her, feel the beating of her heart, and the warmth of her blood that were present therein. He felt connected with her in every way, watching in quiet fascination as the waves of energy washed over him. He recalled Rem telling him of the oceans on Earth, and how the gravity of the moon pulled at the water and caused the tide; the receding and advancing of the water. She had told him how wonderful it had felt to stand on the beach and feel the waves wash over her ankles, and he reckoned this must have been how it had felt. To feel it wash over you, then recede, then wash over you again in a comforting rhythm. The heat of her body, the warmth of her soul were like the waves of the ocean washing over his mind, soothing him. It felt wonderful to feel such a serene power that hadn't been corrupted like that of his sisters inside the bulbs. For their power was being channeled into the city, supplying it with what it needed, and wasn't free like Rhianne's. It was serene, because his sisters were programmed to be serene. It was only when they malfunctioned that they would be ill tempered. But Rhianne's was unconfined, uncontaminated by machines, it was pure energy, and it soothed him to the very core of his soul. 

Rhianne removed her hands from Rinoa's throat, ceasing the waves of energy and bringing Vash out of his reverie. His aqua orbs traveled down to the girl's throat and widened at what he saw: only a small scar remained of what had once been a fatal wound. He blinked.

"H-how did you do that?" he asked, bewildered. Rhianne smiled lightly "I stimulated the cells in her body to reconstruct themselves" her eyes traveled to his robotic arm "I'll teach you how someday" She scooped Rinoa up in her arms and stood "but not today." 

"H-hey! What are you doing? Do you want to get shot!?" Vash exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing on to her arm. She looked into his eyes "Vash, Rinoa has a family and friends. If I let her stay here, amidst all this, she'll die even without the wound in her neck. It's my fault and I have to make sure she's safe." 

"Knives" she beckoned. The male plant turned to her, a frustrated look smeared across his face at being taken away from killing the spiders. "What is it woman? Can't you see I'm busy saving your ungrateful hide?" Rhianne stepped up to him and kissed the tip of his nose

"I love you Knives. I want you to know that" that said, she strode out into the middle of the street, the child clutched tightly in her arms.


	27. The Price of The Angel's Life

Disclaimer: Trigun has never been and will never be mine, no matter how many people I try to bribe. 

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Price of The Angel's Life

Rhianne felt the heated gazes of her comrades as she stepped out from the security of their makeshift fort on the porch of the little café. She clutched Rinoa tightly in her arms, and the steady beating of the child's heart set her at ease. Everything would work out, she was sure of it. 

Now able to concentrate her energy on one thing, she created a protective bubble around herself, condensing the air molecules around her as she walked into the center of the street, ignoring the rattle of gunfire as the gunmen fired round after round at her. She inhaled a deep breath and summoned what remained of her courage.

"Hey!" She cried out. The gunfire stopped. It was as though her voice had acted as a remote control, muting everything around her. "I want to see the man in charge!" Her voice rung out, clear as crystal in the still air that had, moments before, been sliced through by thousands of bullets. From to her left she heard a muffled voice command someone to 'get the boss'. She gulped and hoped for the best.

From behind her came the crunching of the sand, and Rhianne whirled around to see the man who had ordered her death. His gaunt face looked as though the very life had been sucked out of it, for it shared the gaping qualities of a hollow human skull. His chocolate hair was greasy and was doted with small flecks of dandruff, and was parted to one side in a vain attempt to conceal a bald spot forming atop his head. His body, clad in a black topcoat and pants, was nearly as gaunt and lifeless as his facial features. The small cigarette he had held in one bony hand was dropped to the sand and crushed beneath a newly polished brogue shoe. The hand that had held the cigarette folded behind his back, while the other hovered over a large revolver riding at the holster at his hip. From behind black sunglasses he regarded the woman before him with a keen interest. His thin lips pulled back into a small grin.

"You asked for me, my dear?" he said in a voice as smooth as glass. But it didn't conceal the sinister undertones lying within. He was obviously angered by the fact his men hadn't been able to take out the trio. 

"Yes" Rhianne stated, keeping her voice even and emotionless "who are you? Why are you trying to harm my friends?" The grin widened.

"Far too many questions for a creature such as yourself. But I see no harm in answering them. I am Drake Connell. This" he waved an arm around "is the band of men I have assembled over the thirty years as a bounty hunter; and as to our motives? We have received a direct request to eliminate you and your companions from a rather disgruntled man by the name of Leo."

Rhianne gasped, nearly dropping the unconscious girl in the process. Leo… he had been the cook that had tried to kill them. Leo was the one Knives had insisted die. Leo was the one she had allowed to be spared….

"Leo asked us to kill you." Drake stated, interrupting her thoughts. He stepped closer.

"Now, why is it you want to see me? Does it have to do with her?" he nodded at Rinoa, who Rhianne was still holding in a vice grip. The plant nodded. 

"Yes. She was fatally wounded. I healed her, but she needs to get out of here and rest up before she gets hurt again." 

Drake chuckled quietly "trying to atone for your sins, are you?" Rhianne blinked, unsure of how to handle a remark such as that.

"You." He spat, not waiting for her to respond "you and your wretched kind. You and those two over there are nothing but a bunch of unnatural freaks. You were never meant to exist. You shouldn't have the powers you do, or be able to do things that you do. You should be confined in your bulbs, working for us, like you were meant to be. It's because of that man over we're stuck on this hellhole of a planet. Because of his brother thousands have died and lost the ones they loved. Your kind have brought nothing but misery and unhappiness to us, and you try to make it all better by saving one insignificant little girl? Do you think you can make up for killing thousands by saving a few?" He sneered, watching in twisted satisfaction as Rhianne's face paled as what he said sank in. 

She blinked a few times, trying to grapple with the words she had just heard. How could he think that? How did he…

"How do you know about Knives?" she thought aloud, realizing she had asked him only in the moments after. Drake smiled darkly at Knives, who was being restrained by Vash from leaving their fort. 

"When Burnadelli received the report from the two insurance girls sent to track Vash the Stampede, it made headline news. In the report the woman, Meryl I believe her name was, went into great detail about the cause of the Great Fall, the destruction of July and Augusta, the cyclone of troubles that seemed to have been caused by the Humanoid Typhoon that were, in fact, caused by his meddlesome twin and his group of freaks, and what Vash and his brother Knives really were. That was when the names Vash and Knives had become synonymous with death and destruction. Since then we have hated them with the fiercest of passions. We hate them. We hate what they are. We hate that they have been granted weapons of destruction that can wipe us all out should they so wish it. We hate their immortality. We hate that they contain such a powerful life force but we can't use it to our advantage. We hate it that they have a will, power to choose, we hate it that they are like us." 

His speech finished, he approached the slightly taken back plant and stretched out his hand. Three inches from her face he lay his palm flat on the air. 

"You have a barrier" he stated, as though he was mocking her for not having the confidence to step into the street unshielded. Rhianne gazed evenly at him, trying with all her might not to whip out her angel blades and slice the man to shreds for his ignorance. But she knew better. She would start a scene and the gunmen atop the buildings would take it out on Vash and Knives. She knew they would wind up dead without the barrier. There were far too many people against them for them to win, even with Vash's well-known sense of luck, they would be lucky to die quickly. She gave this Drake character credit, he had known what he had been up against, and there was no doubt of that. 

"All I want is for you to take Rinoa somewhere safe." She spat, her voice icy. Drake smiled, his lips pulling back from his nearly gray gums and yellowed crooked teeth. Rhianne could hear the air whistle through the gap between his two front teeth as he in haled and exhaled, each breath taken sharply. He was furious, Rhianne could tell. He hated the very thought of talking to her. He thought her a luscious woman, yet it disgusted him to see such features placed so perfectly upon one of _them_. When he found himself attracted to her physical features, he felt like gouging out his own eyes. She disgusted him, and if it were not for her barrier, he would have placed a bullet in her brain when he first set eyes upon her. 

"Look, I'm not here for your lectures" Rhianne interrupted his thoughts "all I want is for you to take Rinoa to safety. That's all I ask." 

Drake gazed at her steadily. Her aqua eyes looked so full of life and vibrancy and emotion it sickened him. She was a freak and should be locked safely away in a bulb where she could be watched. His eyes turned to the girl clutched tightly in her arms. Her breathing was light and long, her chest rising and falling evenly with sleep. The plant woman wasn't bluffing, he could see the small white scar contrasting her tanned skin where the wound had been healed over and the blood staining her clothing. She had been shot and the freak had healed her. Drake shuddered. He would much rather die than be healed by one of _them_.

"All right. But on one condition" he started, examining his nails aloofly "in exchange for the girl's safety, you have to take down that barrier of yours." Rhianne's eyes widened "I can't do that. You know as well as I do your men will shoot me." She shook her head. Drake chuckled quietly.

"Would you rather an innocent child die?" he asked darkly. The determination on her face wavered and she bit her lip.

"Will you give me a minute?" she asked. Drake shrugged "as you wish it" Rhianne nodded and closed her eyes. There was one last thing she had to do.

__

*Knives?* She mentally prodded into his mind.

__

Yes? Came the reply. Rhianne could sense his eyes on her, knowing exactly what she was about to do. 

She allowed her barrier to evaporate around her, placing it around her fellow plants to ensure that they would be able to stay alive, even if she couldn't. She kissed Rinoa's forehead and placed her into Connell's arms. He snickered and stepped back a few feet, raising his hand above his head.

*_I love you so much…*_

Drake snapped his fingers and the gunmen started shooting.

The very first sensation Rhianne was aware of was the sharp pain in her right shoulder, watching as her own blood shot out into the air and feel to the ground. Another pain in her leg. Another in her abdomen, the bullet lodging itself in her gut. Another sharp pain in her chest. Another and another and another. She felt her body being riddled with bullets as she fell to her knees upon the sand, cringing as the bullets in her legs got pushed farther into her flesh as she put her weight onto them. One pierced her throat, the very spot Rinoa had been shot. One went through her palm, and she heard the sound of her own bones cracking and felt hot tears stream down her face and her voice wheeze as she struggled to get enough air through her pierced windpipe. Her hair clung to her bloody neck and back, falling into her wounds and sending a sharp tickling sensation through her body. She felt a large bullet hit her right foot and explode, and watched as her severed foot sailed over her head and landed on the sand, the toes of still wiggling through the pieces of her boot. Unable to bear the pain, Rhianne fell to the ground and watched as her own blood stained the little rocks that ground themselves around in her wounds and made her grit her teeth. She wouldn't scream; not ever. She reached her left arm forwards, towards the feet of the sinister man that had forced her into this. She looked up at him, her eyelids getting heavy, and watched him pull the revolver from its holster at his hip. Barely aware of what he was doing because of the overwhelming pain, Rhianne watched helplessly as he cocked his gun and pointed it at her, grinning. 

__

This is it…she thought to herself, barely aware of her own thoughts_ I'm going to die. _She felt her heartbeat slow as Drake moved the gun to the temple of the little girl she had worked so hard to save. Her eyelids fell heavily over her eyes as her heart stopped, and the very last thing Rhianne De LaTour saw was Drake Connell pulling the trigger of the gun placed at Rinoa's forehead as the icy darkness descended upon her.


	28. Awakening

Disclaimer: I might be tempted to find religion if I could say I owned Trigun

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Awakening

A/N: Well, I'm alive. After being banished from the internet for two weeks, battling the flu and a virus, I _finally_ managed to get another chapter done! Terribly sorry about the long wait, I hope the chapter's worth it… *bows* gomen nasai.

She was enveloped in white; wrapped in a milky blanket of warmth. Her whole body felt comfy, as if she lay upon a down blanket, although she floated in nothingness. She felt wisps of her hair float around her face, tickling her cheeks. Her eyes opened, aqua orbs that had thought they'' seen their last, and looked around her. Milky whiteness stretched around her. Rhianne hugged herself, marveling in the warmth and sense of security that came from being here, and wondered if this was some sort of heaven. In a flash, all her memories flooded back to her, and her eyes widened in shock. She had died. This must be heaven, because there was no way she could have survived the barrage of bullets that she had been subjected to. 

She pulled herself into an upright position, abandoning the fetal position she had awakened in, and stretched her shoulders back. She stretched her hands out, splaying her fingers and rolling her head around her shoulders. She wiggled her fingers and toes, stretching her leg muscles. How long had she been sitting like that, she wondered idly and she moved her fingers around, marveling at the strange feeling of nothingness between them. Her index finger brushed something and her idle thoughts came to a halt. 

She flexed her shoulder blades, and felt something move with them. Drawing her arms close to her, shrugging her shoulders in, Rhianne saw large, opalescent wings fold in around her with the movement of her shoulder blades. Her eyes widened; these were her wings. Her Angel Wings. Which could only mean one thing…

Frantically, Rhianne twirled around in what now seemed like her milky white prison, looking for some sign of the exterior of the bulb. She swiveled around, watching as the wisps of her hair floated, as if in water, around her head. 

Although she knew the vastness of the bulb; how large it had to be to manage the current of energy channeled through it and the Plant Angels within, being inside a bulb was a completely different experience. 

It seemed to stretch on infinitely before her, an ocean of placid whiteness. It felt like a big, down fluffy blanket in here…except not. She could almost relate the feeling of the interior of the bulb to a bath. But that ideal was annulled when Rhianne opened her mouth, half-expecting some unknown liquid to spill down her throat, and tasted nothing but air. She blinked for several seconds, not really comprehending what was going on. Although she had come to the conclusion that the interior of the bulb wasn't like water; she could liken the feeling to being in a bath. And even though the lack of liquid in the bulb made it rather hard to liken it to a bath, the floating feeling almost reminded her of the bath…or the ocean. She sighed and shook her head, watching as her hair floated around her head in the milky nothingness; it was a waste to dwell on something so insignificant, and her time was better used going down towards the bottom of the bulb and seeing what was going on. And even more importantly, where she was.

Looking towards her feet, Rhianne made the assumption that that was the way towards the bottom of the bulb…unless she had awoken upside down…she shook her head. It was very hard to maintain a logical strain of thought inside the bulb. Idly, she wondered if this was the effect the bulbs had on the Plant Angels, before her mind turned to chocolate parfaits… She shook her head again, this wouldn't do. She had to get out of here before her entire sense of logic was overwhelmed. Bending down, she started to move down the bulb in motions that mimicked swimming, but soon found it easier to move her wings for transport, as her arms got tired very quickly. 

For what seemed like ages Rhianne swam through the bulb, eventually closing her eyes against the placid whiteness. Her eyes grew tired, looking at the snowy interior, that seemed nearly blinding and dull at the same time. If she looked at it long enough, she fancied she saw it moving, swirling and moving like the snowflakes the color mimicked. She had stopped once, her mind toying with the notion that there was something there, something she should go see, but she dismissed herself of the notion and quickly took to closing her eyes after several thought of backtracking and seeing if there was something there. 

_I wonder if Knives misses me?_

She wondered idly as she moved along, her wings flapping silently in the vastness of the bulb. She touched on this thought a bit, firstly thinking that he might be angry with her for making such a rash decision regarding the gunmen and Rinoa. Then, as she moved into thoughts of him simply being happy she was alive, a small voice at the back of her head interrupted her original train of thought:

_Why go back out there? What's so good out there? Here, in the bulb, it's safe. You don't need to think about your problems, you'll never go hungry, never be ridiculed again. You can stay here, free from pain, forever. No one will ever hurt you again. No one will ever make you cry. Eventually, you'll forget what it's like to feel pain. You'll only know calmness and serenity. Everything will be perfect; calm and simple._

"Wabi and Sabi…." Rhianne echoed quietly, using one of the ancient languages she had picked up as a child "…calmness and simplicity." 

__

Yes, wabi and sabi…everything will be easy for you. No more pain. You'll forget the emotions, the people that hurt you…

"But I don't want to forget." Rhianne cried, surging ahead, vainly hoping that the voice was only found in one area of the bulb. But, as her subconscious had suggested, she was wrong.

__

Everything will be so easy…

"But then I wouldn't be living. Life isn't easy, and that's what makes it life. Life is tough, it throws shit at you and you have to take it and deal with it. That's how you learn to grow…"

_No one will ever break your heart again…_ The little voice in her head chided, tauntingly for it was a part of her mind that, although manipulated by the programming of the bulb, knew her memories. 

"Maybe so, but I'd rather go out there and have my heart broken than to stay here and wonder what could have been; than to miss out on something potentially wonderful."

_Eventually you would forget about your feelings. You would know only calmness and happiness…_

"Yes, and in exchange, I would forget how to love."

_And what's the matter with that? Knives is only going to break your heart, you know. You mean nothing to him. He won't miss you at all, because you are only a barrier in his genocide plans, and a rather large barrier at that. He'd rather stop loving you than to give up revenge on the Humans. You know that, even if you won't admit it to yourself. _

The voice trailed off and silence settled in Rhianne's mind like a fine dust. Her thoughts stopped with the speech of the voice in her head. Her movements halted for a moment, then, slowly, she curled into a ball, wrapping her magnificent wings around herself for a moment.

"No….not Knives… no…

"KNIVES!!!" she cried, throwing herself back, stretching her arms and legs and throwing her head so far back the it nearly reached between her shoulder blades. She felt tears spill from her lids, pearly and opalescent against the bland whiteness around her. She closed her eyes tightly, and fought her way desperately to the edge of the bulb. She had to see Knives. 

She knew that the voice was wrong; that it was just a part of her brain being manipulated by the programming of the bulb, but, yet, she couldn't dismiss its words.

_He'll just use you up and spit you out, just like he's done to everyone he's ever known…_

Her wings flapped hurriedly in the interior of the bulb, her head thrashed back and forth, her hands clasping her scalp, knotting themselves into her hair as she tried to rid herself of the terrible feeling that the voice had invoked within her: worthlessness. 

With the proclamation the voice in her head had made, Rhianne suddenly felt a wave of doubt spread over her. What if it was true? What if she was only a pawn in his genocide plans? Was the only reason he had followed her to ensure that he could keep her feelings for him alive and manipulate her and use her in his plans? Was that his only priority?

Her hands tore at her hair, pulling it tightly, causing her scalp to burn. No, this wasn't the way to think. She removed her fingers from her hair and shrugged her shoulders back, causing her massive wings to beat, moving her through the void of the bulb. She closed her eyes tightly and clutched at her head, screaming as the voice reappeared.

_Why resist the calmness of the bulb? You'll be better off here than you would ever be out there with him. You've been a failure all your life, why waste the rest of it out there, when you could be safe and calm in the bulb? You failed Corrin, you allowed yourself to be exploited by the army and your body literally used as a weapon. Or, rather, the life of your-_

"NO! You're wrong! I never meant to disappoint Corrin! All I wanted to do was win the war for his sake! You know nothing- NOTHING!" She moved her wings faster and faster, trying in vain to outrun the voice in her head, although she knew it wouldn't happen; you couldn't run from your own subconscious.

_Just stay here…_

"No! I can't I've got to see-" Rhianne opened her eyes angrily, and was met with a pair of ice-blue ones boring into her own. She recoiled slightly, not prepared to be met with such a piercing stare upon opening her eyes. 

"_Knives!"_ she gasped, placing a delicate hand over her mouth in surprise, before removing it and breaking into a small smile "_I missed you. Please let me out_"

Knives said nothing in response, he just stared up at her with his wintry eyes, which suddenly seemed so hurt, so innocent and childlike. And, as his eyes bored into Rhianne's aqua orbs, it struck her that he seemed hurt. And she swore that through the thick glass of the bulb, Knives' eyes sat behind a pool of unshed tears. He blinked, and in an instant the water clouding his eyes was gone, and his eyebrows narrowed angrily, and he glared up at her.

_Why Rhianne…?_

A single thought reached her mind, before he cut off the link and stormed away, leaving through a door at the far end of the room. "Knives?" she pleaded gently, pawing a little at the wall of what now seemed like her cell. 

"_KNIVES!_" she cried pleadingly, pounding her fist at it, creating nothing but a hollow thud that echoed throughout the empty bulb. She waited a moment, and, when Knives did not return, curled up into a little ball, resting her forehead against the warm surface of the bulb, and cried; feeling, for the first time in her life, utterly and completely alone.


	29. Paranioa and Memories

Disclaimer: I drew a pretty picture of Trigun today *proudly displays picture*…..but it's the closest I'll ever come to owning it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Paranoia and Memories…

A/N: Argh, the constant italics in this chappy drove me nuts _

Rhianne sat there for a long time, her forehead resting against the warm walls of the bulb, splashing it's curved surface with her tears. She opened her watery eyes slightly, watching as the tear slid down the glass and into milky oblivion and wondered sorrowfully if that's how she would disappear in Knives' mind. Or worse, his heart. She swatted some hair that clung to her damp cheeks away, sniffling lightly. 

Why was he mad at her? What had she done that had been so wrong? Yes, she may have been rash in sacrificing her life for Rinoa's, but he had known how much she valued life, and had known full well what she was going to do, and hadn't tried to interfere. 

_Because he knew it'd get rid of you for him…_

The voice made reappearance in her head so suddenly that Rhianne gasped. 

"What?" she asked, hardly capable of grappling with the concept presented to her.

_It's very simple: he wanted you gone, but couldn't bring himself to kill you. So he figured he'd let those gunmen do his dirty work._

"But" Rhianne countered "that wouldn't be true, because someone had to have put me in the bulb, and Knives obviously knew I was here.

_You do remember he has a pacifist for a twin, don't you? Vash wouldn't let you die if he could help it, and Knives just went along with it because-_

"No! I have to get out of here and get back to him! Knives!"

_But why?_ Her mind questioned _because you love him? Wasn't it a little too quick to be real love? It's just infatuation, and Knives has realized it; so should you. Just stay in the bulb…_

Having planted the seed of doubt in her mind, the voice receded back into the depths of her subconscious from whence it came, leaving the distraught plant to herself.

Getting out of the bulb, and getting back to Knives. How quickly she had fallen for the ice-eyed plant, could it all be true? Was it just infatuation?

"No…" she whispered. It couldn't be. Her hands tore at her scalp, her knuckles losing their color until they matched the ivory of the bulb. 

"Knives…Knives…please, help me." She sobbed, allowing her wrenching cries to resonate through the seemingly unending white.

__

Rhianne…

Another voice pierced her mind. The female plant's head shot up, meeting a pair of eyes that were so much like her own.

__

Vash? She questioned, although it was evident that the aqua-eyed male stood before her, looking up at her. _Vash, please let me out. _ She pleaded, scraping her hands along the surface of the bulb pleadingly. The blonde shook his head lightly, never moving his eyes from hers.

__

I will soon. You still have some internal repairs. You can't feel them in there, but you have several lacerations to your spinal cord and a little more of your biceps to reconstruct. He smiled at her a little; a small, reassuring smile. _But don't worry. I'll have you put back to sleep and take you out when you're body can handle being outside the bulb. It won't be long, I promise. _He started to turn away. 

__

Vash? How long have I been asleep? Rhianne asked after him, he turned back to her.

__

Nearly a month; Knives was worried sick about you, you know. He rarely left the bulb controls. Rhianne looked abashed.

__

Then why is he so mad at me? What have I done wrong?

Don't worry about that now, Knives is just being Knives, it can't be helped. Don't worry. Vash put his thumb and forefinger to his chin in his dashing manner and grinned _you're safe with me._

Rhianne chuckled quietly as he walked out of view. She heard a distant beeping, and within moments fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, still smiling at the broom-haired plant's antics.

******************************************************************************

Vash watched from an angle as Rhianne's eyes closed, and he turned back to the bulb, feeling reassured as the female's heartbeat slowed enough for the internal reconstruction to begin. 

He moved to the bulb, tracing her delicate jaw with the tip of his finger through the glass. She was a beauty, he could see why Knives had fallen for her. The way the light played with the red highlights in her rich chestnut hair, her ruby lips against her porcelain skin the contrast of her eyelashes as they fluttered against her skin. She was as rare as a flower the desert and even more beautiful and delicate than any flower could hope to be. 

The plant sighed, thinking of Meryl. She hadn't been away long; doing business for Burnadelli as usual with her comrade Millie. But Vash had been forbidden to go; left behind to wait and wonder if he would ever see her gray-eyed smile again. Normally, true to form, Vash would have bounded after them, refusing to leave Meryl's side. But the last time he did that he had been spotted and had caused an uproar in the town they had been staying in. Meryl hadn't liked that. Neither had her boss. So, in order to keep her job, Meryl had to go on her business trips without her spiky-haired lover. 

Vash sighed, gazing at the gentle sleeping form of the female plant. She had been in such a terrible state, even he had wondered at the chances of saving her. But Knives, acting in a manner Vash had never thought resided in his twin, made very sure they could.

~_Flashback~_

Rhianne's limp form fell to the sand, her eyes vacant and colorless, her life snuffed out. Her hair sprawled around her head like a chocolate halo, the burgundy residing in the strands glimmering like diamonds in a sea of chestnut. Her outstretched hand twitched lightly, making the sinister man standing before her grin, baring his yellowed teeth at the dead woman. In his arms lay the little girl, Rinoa, the namesake of their ill-begotten sister Vash had never known. Blood poured from the back of her skull, a waterfall of crimson cascading from the ebony river from which it was spawned, like the sky giving boasting an aurora borealis of sangoire_. The ruby red that fell to the pale sand mixed with the spilled blood of the female plant that had forfeited her life for the child's, as it seeped out from the uncountable holes savagely drilled into her ivory flesh with vicious determination. _

It made Knives' blood boil, Vash could feel it. His ice-eyed twin snarled, a sinister growl that hinted at the human qualities bred into him from the moment the computer had processed him into his mother's womb; the dark, savage animal qualities tore out of the shell that encased them, down into the very core of his dark and twisted soul. His pearly teeth were bared, his peach lips- like the flushed edges of a milky cloud in the sunset palette of the sky- began to give forth to a small trickle of blood as he bit down, bright and shimmering against his pale skin. 

"He dies now_" he stated, never releasing the pressure from upon his lip. The blood fell slowly down his chin, leaving a pale crimson trail in its wake. It halted momentarily at the base of his chin, like a droplet of rain on a tender leaf. Then it fell, making it's decent through the sandy air swiftly, and like an Angel Blade through the tender flesh of the spiders Knives had slaughtered throughout his lifetime. And before that little sparkling diamond, a little bead of life itself, fell to the pale sandy floor of the desert, an Angel Blade had sprung forth from the arm of the plant with the tundra-skies eyes. And Drake Connell's head lay cold upon the sand; his black glasses shattering, revealing the bloodshot yellow yes that had regarded the cold female plant moments earlier, the life fading in his now dilated pupils. The last thing they ever processed to his brain was the maniacal smile donning upon Millions Knives' face as his arm morphed into his Angel Arm; the weapon that would destroy his men within a mere moment. _

"Knives! No_!" Vash cried, before the weapon that had replaced his brother's left arm "_you can't!"

__

"They killed her Vash! They will die_!" Knives snarled _back "go get her body! We have barriers, they will protect you! GO_!" Obediently, like a dog under command Vash hurtled towards Rhianne's still form, unfazed by the barrage of bullets raining down upon him; protected by the barrier, Rhianne's dying gift to the twins. He snatched up her body, and, holding it close broke into a hurried run as Knives' cry of rage rang out through the bullet-ridden air, accompanied by the blinding, unmistakable light of his Angel Arm. _

The screams of the men and women crashed upon him like a wave and the broom-haired man felt little crystals of water spill from his lids, at the innocent howls of despair as their lives were snuffed out. He dashed through the streets, not allowing the nearly blinding light to overtake him; as he wasn't sure Rhianne's barriers could withstand the barrage of raw energy and power his brother had unleashed. 

Almost too late, Vash hurtled out of the city limits, Rhianne still clutched tightly to his chest. He felt her blood soak through the fabric of his jacket, making the leather of his bodysuit beneath stiff and uncomfortable as he ran from the explosion behind him. His boots crunched on the sand, drowned out by the explosion that nearly rivaled a sonic boom. He vaulted over a dune and lay there, fetal position with Rhianne clutched close to him like an infant in a mother's arms. 

He felt the rain of sand fall upon him, and, after a moment's silence, the distant crunching of lone boots among the debris of a once-proud city. He sighed, tears still cascading like waterfalls down his flushed cheeks. Rhianne was safe, she would be saved; but at the cost of how many lives? Vash turned to his brother, questioning him with his deep, watery aqua orbs.

She must never know_ came the reply. _

And so it was. 


	30. The Dispute

Disclaimer: *looks around* has anyone seen Trigun? *searches frantically* Trigun?! Trigun?!? *looks under bed* Nope, not there. *under couch cushions* No, not there either *runs to closet and throws open the doors, revealing her secret Knives shrine* No, not there either! Wah! They got it back! Somehow, someway, the real owners of Trigun got it back! WAH! *cries* Just…go read the chappy…*sobs "I don't own Trigun anymore"*

Chapter Thirty: The Dispute

The sunshine blonde plant, with his eyes so strikingly aquamarine, walked slowly down the metal-lined hallway of his brother's floating ship. He had lived there for over a month, tending to the body of the fallen female; the painstaking process of removing the bullets from her cold flesh, tending to the wounds, cleaning them and such, preparing the plant residing within the massive ship to take in her body, and the careful process of transferring her body into the colossal bulb. That had been the most difficult thing to do, as inside the bulb you were binary coding. Yes, it was true. The plant angels, most powerful, yet fragile beings to inhabit the planet, were naught but zeros and ones. To move Rhianne's body into the bulb, he had to transfer all of her medical data, her physical attributes-everything, into infinitesimally long lines of zeros and ones. When that process was completed, he had inputted the data into the plant's computer base system, and had placed the code to be within the bulb. It was a simple, yet mind-bogglingly complex. 

He walked down the hallway, training his fingers along the smooth metal wall of the corridor. His footsteps, boots made for running and trekking through the desert sand rather than walking in a sterile sand-free environment all the time, echoed down the hallway, bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball of sound. 

He came to a door, dragging his fingers over the doorframe, across the sleek metallic surface, and finally to grasp the knob. It felt cold beneath his fingers, and the plant shivered involuntarily; his brother's ship was a constant seventy degrees room temperature, though still he shivered therein. As he was not used to the coolness of the metal and air circulation, but to the uncaring harshness of the blazing suns and the sizzling sand crunching within the grips of his boots. 

As the door swung open, Vash was faced with a semi-dark room, lit only by the light displayed on the images on the multiple screens adorning an entire of one wall. The screens displayed every part of the ship, some from several angles in the most important rooms. The static hissed lightly, and feedback rang out as a vent started and the recorders picked up on it. There were sixty screens in all, ranging from small ten inches, to the large fifty-six inch sitting at the dead center, atop a large semicircular panel nestled in which were the controls. The minor hallways were displayed at the smallest screens, which were to be found around the outermost parts of the mosaic-like display of television screens. The more important rooms, it seemed, were displayed on the larger screens, and in the middle of them all, displayed on the fifty-six inch screen, was Rhianne's placid, resting face. 

And sitting in the large, plush swiveling chair before the screen sat Vash's twin brother, Knives.

He was mimicking his twin's earlier actions, tracing the female's jaw with his gloved hand, running a fabric-tipped finger gently across the screen as delicately as though it were her flesh he felt beneath his finger, not a cold lifeless screen. His finger traced her lips, a cold gray on the colorless screen. They parted with a sigh as she slept, and the ice-eyed plant sighed along with her. Watching this, Vash simply stood in the doorway, unsure if it would be wise to disturb his sibling.

"Vash, I'm not stupid" came Knives' placid voice, as his face was turned away from the broom-haired man in the doorway "I knew you were coming, I saw it on the monitors."

Vash blushed a little "oh…yeah" he moved closer to his brother, leaning against the smooth, slightly curved upwards surface of the control panel. He ran a hand through his spiked hair and sighed a little, moving his gaze to his brother's face.

Knives' pupils had shrunk until they were nearly consumed wholly by his tundra-sky colored irises, as he was nearly nose-to-nose with Rhianne's face on the screen. The gray light that came from the screen gave his pale face a ghastly discoloration to something that resembled a sickly, swampy gray-white. It was the color of cartilage; and Vash likened Knives' face, so placid yet to tense, to that of Death itself.

"She's very beautiful" Vash commented absently, turning his gaze from his twin's ghostly face to that of the sleeping woman on the screen.

"Yes she is" came the monotone reply. A pause, then "it's rather a shame, isn't it?" 

"What's that?" Knives smiled sadly, and Vash remarked that this was the first time he had seen such a remorseful look don his brother's handsome features "that she isn't mine"

The darker blonde blinked for a moment, his eyes averting to the screen for naught but a moment, returning then to his brother's pallid face.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, ever inquisitive. As he spoke a small ray of sunlight shot through the small window in the room, splaying itself delicately across the floor, and momentarily hitting the rays of gold upon the ice-eyed man's face. It brought life to his pale blonde hair, turning it to a shimmering fountain of the palest gold spilling down from the crown of his head, his bangs falling, uncut, like waves upon his skin lit to nearly silver by the light. And for a moment a flash of gold light, a mere pinprick slashed itself through his ice-eyes and they softened in that instant. For a mere second, his eyes were filled with the light only seen when one finds themselves encircled in Love's embrace. His eyes, lit like candles in the ebony black of night, shone for that brilliant moment, with the love and admiration he hid away inside himself; that he covered with a blanket of secrecy and swore never to remove. In that shining moment, Vash saw how truly he loved that woman on the screen, and how the lives of innocents and sinners alike were worth her life and her happiness. 

But as the sunlight receded away into the inky black of night, the light left his eyes. It moved swiftly out of his eyes, allowing them to be filled again with the icy blue of the arctic waters, leaving no room for the warmth of summer that had vacated them so suddenly, giving way to the ice that consumed his gaze. Had he ever seen one, Vash could have likened the change that had overtaken his brother to the tail of a great killer whale; rising momentarily out of the waves of the ocean in all it's beauty and splendor, then retreating down into the cold depths of the ice, only to surface when the time befitted it so. 

"You know what I mean" Knives stated darkly, never moving his gaze from the screen, acknowledging his brother's presence only by speaking to him. 

"I'm sure she had her reasons" Vash offered, placing a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. Knives sneered at the screen and shrugged his hand away. 

"Yes, yes; I'm sure she did. But if she loved me as she says…" he trailed off, leaving the void to be filled with silence. But the aqua-eyed plant wouldn't let the silence thicken between them.

"Knives, if you knew, what would you have done? You wouldn't have loved her like you do; you would have used her. And that's not real love."

"And what do you know of love?" Knives spat back, finally turning to face his sibling, his eyes aflame "you, who has spent his whole life in servitude to a woman he knew for naught two years? You claim to love her, you carry her torch high, and yet it isn't why you do it." He paused, smirking at the look of astonishment that donned upon his brother's face 

You do it because you are a coward. You have taken only a single life during the long course of your own; killing my dear Legato. Knowing wholly what you did, knowing you had forsaken that Rem bitch, you cried. And yet, the tears weren't for her, were they Vash? No, they were for _you._ You, who never stole a life; you, who protected those weaker than yourself; you, who forsook your own twin, your own flesh and blood, for a bunch of worthless mortals! No, you don't love Rem Saverem, and you don't love that little pet of yours either-Merle or whatever it is. You only allow yourself to think that so you can convince yourself that none of this was your fault. I crashed that ship for _you_ Vash. And Rem died therein; you know it. I condemned the spiders to this hellhole of a planet, because of _you_, and it's because of you that -Meryl is her name, yes?- Meryl, will die. She will die beneath the harsh light of the twin suns and there is nothing you can do about it. You shall cry for her Vash, I know you will. You will shed tear after ill-spent tear upon her grave; but they won't be for her. They won't be because you loved her, they will be for _you._ They will be for your guilt. The guilt that tears you apart every second of every day, because you know, Vash The Stampede, my brother, that it is _all your fault._" 

A/N: Is that any good? I do hope I got Knives' perspective right, and everything sounds all right. R&R and let me know please! LL


	31. Rhianne's Awakening

Disclaimer: LL: * looks up at a random balcony* Trigun, Trigun, wherefore art thou, Trigun? Why is it I may never claim you as my own? Why must I be forced to simply write a fanfic, rather than have your story to share with the world?

Thirty-One: Rhianne's Awakening

A/N: Blah, lot's of dialogue-ey goodness…

Crystalline tears welled up in the plant's eyes, spilling over his lids and streaking down the flushed apples of his cheeks. The image of his brother's face swam in his vision, but he could still make out the deep lines of disgust that etched themselves into his twin's gaze ever time he set eyes upon him. It hurt him so deeply, every time Knives looked at him like that. Because he could see that his brother wouldn't ever see the way he did; that he would continue relentlessly in hie genocide plans until his dying day. That the aqua-orbed plant would forever see an adversary in his brother; that they could never combine their efforts to make the planet a better place. Forever would they stand to oppose each other, obstacles in their-perhaps-eternal struggle. The only way they would ever resolve their feud, the only way to end it all, Vash had known all along: one must perish. He had known it, the bitter truth, all along, never admitting to it; never yielding to the truth that looked him in the eye every time the thought of his brother caught his eye. Knives would never relent, never allow himself to mingle with the 'spiders'. Vash could see it when he looked into his brother's eyes. 

That was, unless Rhianne could change his mind.

The thought struck him like lightening, sending a jolt through him, sizzling like raw, unhampered electricity. 

Blinking back his tears, Vash began to back away, keeping his gaze locked onto the ice orbs nestled in his brother's face like sapphires in the sand. Lines of rage lined his features as he backed away, bumping himself on the control panel as he did so. 

"That's it Vash, go" Knives sneered icily, his tone mirroring the color of his eyes "run. Flee, as you always have. Run form your problems like the coward you are." His eyes narrowed at his brother, measuring his worth as a sibling in their icy interiors. 

"_Go_" he hissed darkly, and Vash obeyed, backing out of the room and closing the door behind him, still in shock at his brother's words. The metal door clicked shut, and the tears fell. Leaning heavily against the door, the plant crumpled to the floor, his sobs overtaking him for the moment. He slid his gloved hands to cover his face, muffling the sobs. He knew Knives was watching him on the camera, but paid it no heed; he didn't care right now. 

How could Knives have said that, he wondered, digging his gloved fingers into his hair follicles. He had always known that Knives despised the way he chose his morals, but to think that… It made him look at his life in a whole different perspective. Was it his fault? Could it be…was Knives right?

Vash rose, wiping his damp cheeks, and turned back the way he had come. He reached the plant room door, and flung it open melodramatically, but then paused when he was greeted with the sight of the bulb, that the angel floating within it. 

Vash sighed at the sight of her; he couldn't help it. Rhianne looked so peaceful, so serene. She reminded him of a statue he'd once seen in the books on the Seeds ship, a statue of a Goddess, Diana, he seemed to remember her name being, standing behind a dais, her arms outstretched towards the heavens, her face placid and calm. 

That's whom Rhianne resembled; her pale lids ending in dark lashes that fluttered like raven's wings against her ivory skin. Her overabundance of chestnut hair floated gently around her face, moving softly in the gravity-free interior of the bulb. The light in the room shone upon it, making it look like strands of silk, wrought with burgundy and gold that shimmered when reflected properly in the light, hidden otherwise beneath the dominant dark chocolate layers. 

"I can see why Knives fell for you so hard. You have the beauty of a goddess" Vash sighed quietly, touching the bulb with the tips of his fingers and gazing up at her. His fingers moved over the smooth glass until they rested upon her lips, standing out against her skin like blood in fresh snow. He rose to his toes a little, and his lips touched the glass over her lips lightly.

_Be happy with Knives; he deserves it…_

He paused for a moment, reflecting on his thoughts, then moved over to the machine. Moving a person by binary code can be a lengthy process, but Vash had the data saved in the computer's hard drive, and accessed it easily. He paused for a moment, looking back at the bulb, then at the table set up by himself and Knives a few weeks ago to receive her when she was healed. He re-checked her physical data, making sure everything had healed as it should, and entered a complex series of numbers to initiate the binary transport sequence. The computer beeped, Vash waited with anticipation, watching the arrow turn into an hourglass and turn itself over. Countless times, millions and millions of times did that little thing turn itself over, it seemed, and Vash thought he would go mad with anticipation. And to his delight, a moment later the hourglass resumed its original form. Vash whirled, a smile mirroring the lighthearted feeling that blossomed within him. 

On the table, set up to the side of the bulb lay Rhianne, unmarred and sleeping soundly. 

Vash allowed his gaze to rest upon her for a long while. She looked so calm, so free of pain he barely dared to walk over and cup her cheek with a gloved hand. He could feel her skin, so soft and smooth beneath the buckles of his glove, as he ran his thumb over her cheek. 

"_It's called moisturizer, you can buy it at most stores" _A mocking voice blossomed in his head, and Vash looked down at the woman on the table, and found she had opened her eyes and was smirking at him. 

"Rhianne!' Vash gasped, smiling down at her. Rhianne's eyes were opened; the right one minus the hole that had pierced it before her recuperation inside the bulb. They were perfect, without a single mishap. The tiny red veins crawled around the whites of her eyes, their intricate lines unbroken and unflawed. They stretched across the whiteness to her irises, resplendent aquamarine, so much like the ones that bored into her. 

"How are you Vash?" she asked quietly, rising to sit up. 

For reasons he could not comprehend, tears welled themselves up again in the spiky-haired plant's eyes. The cascaded down his cheeks unchecked, and he threw himself into Rhianne's arms, sobbing. 

"Knives said I really don't love anyone; that I only pretend I do to ease my conscience! It isn't true; I _do_ love Meryl! I love her with all my heart, and I would never, ever fake that. All I ever tried to do was to help people! All I try to do is to make other's lives better! No one deserves to be unhappy, and I feel compassion for everyone I meet. I try to help them with their problems, enrich their lives so that they don't have to face the harsh reality of life. I never thought Knives would interpret my actions like that!"

He cried on her shoulder for a long while, letting Rhianne run her hands over his head and whisper little soothing words to him. His arms were wrapped around her neck, and feeling his warm body against hers, she missed Knives even more despite the grief he had caused his sibling. After a while, Vash's sobs started to recede, and she took his tear-stained head in her hands, cupping his cheeks with her palms. 

"Vash" she started, wiping another tear away from his cheek "people get jerked around a lot, that much is obvious. But if you obsess about fixing other peoples lives, you'll forget your own. I'm not saying you should stop trying to help people, just done let their failures get to you; they're _their_ failures, not yours, and you are in no way responsible for them.

"A wise man once said, 'guide not a person through life, for then they do not truly live; advise them henceforth, and let them find their own path, as shall you to find your"

"Who said that?" Vash asked

"My brother" Rhianne said quietly. 

Vash's eyes bored into hers, awestruck "you had a brother?" he asked, dumbfounded. 

"Yes" came the small reply "I had a brother once." Still the awestruck look and the eyes still boring into her own. "…Once?"

"Yes, once" Rhianne said with a sigh "Vash, you know about the other Seeds ships, don't you?" at his head-shake, she continued "there were three Seeds ships carrying the populace of Earth upon them, bound for different parts of the galaxy. On each, two plants were born: you and Knives, Aeris and Andan, and myself and…my brother Corrin. Our ship was the first to settle on our intended planet, which we christened Setsu, meaning 'snow' in an ancient language called Japanese. The populace grew over the years, and eventually we created a sister colony on Isis, Setsu's moon. During all this, the humans were looking for a way to rid themselves of their dependency on the plants, as it was very hard to grow plants in a near-constant sub-zero climate. We managed for a long time to survive without causing any problems for our sisters; it's much easier to live on a planet of ice and snow than sand. Eventually, we came upon a natural resource we named Norofin. It was combustible, provided a great deal of heat when added to a flame, and could be used to create electricity to heat and brighten the greenhouses where we grew food. 

"Nearly a decade after the discovery of Norofin- which had been discovered on Setsu- a man named Philip Douglas went on vacation to Isis with his family of four. While there, he stumbled upon a huge amount of Norofin hidden beneath the ice of the moon while skating. The Setsuian government took immediate action, claiming the product was theirs by right of discovery. Isis, on the other hand, argued that it belonged to them, as it was found on their soil. As most situations like that do, the planet and its satellite erupted in war. 

"My brother Corrin De LaTour, because of his heritage as a plant, was sent to the front lines almost immediately. But two years in…there was an explosion aboard his ship, and he perished within the cold void of space. My brother died there…" She trailed off, wiping at her tearing eyes with the back of her hand. Her head bowed, she gave way to the sobs that overtook her. A moment later, Vash's arms had encircled her in a tight embrace. 

"Don't worry Rhianne, I'm sure he's very happy where he is, and I know he's proud of you." 

"That may be so Vash, but now everyone I love is gone. Corrin died, Knives hates me-" 

"When did he tell you that?" Vash asked, not releasing his grip on her. Rhianne sniffled "he's angry with me; he probably hates me now…"

"No no, shh." Vash patted her head lightly "he doesn't hate you. He's just upset you never told him…he'll forgive you, you'll see."

Rhianne pulled her head up from his shoulder "do you think so?" she asked, Vash smiled and nodded "just go talk to him, okay? He'll forgive you, he loves you too much to let you go like this."

The chestnut-haired plant sniffles a final time as the tears receded and nodded determinedly. Vash backed away from her, smiling. Within a moment, though, a flush came to his cheeks and he averted his eyes. 

"Um Rhianne…. You're kind of…" he trailed off as the female looked down at herself and gasped. Swearing, she snatched a cloth covering a table to hide herself and her lack of clothing. 

"I can't believe you didn't point that out! I poured my heart out to you and I was _naked_?" she fumed, shoving him lightly. Then she grinned as she danced away from him towards the door, still clutching the towel tightly around her.

"That's all right, you know you want me anyway" she joked, sticking out her tongue before sliding out the door. 


	32. Plant Lust

Disclaimer: Do any of you own Trigun? Because if you do…I'm willing to pay a considerable sum of money for it *rubs fingers together*…. No? Damn… I don't own Trigun then… 

Chapter Thirty-Two: 

A/N: Eek! This chappy deals with near-rape! Nothing happens I swear! *Hides* 

Rhianne walked briskly down the hallway, her bare feet making soft padding noises on the hard floor. The blanket was still clutched around her, one hand clasping it firmly so as not to let it slip. A rosy color of red had bloomed in the apples of her cheeks as she walked, completely aware of the fact that she wore nothing beneath the towel and Knives was more than likely watching her on one of the monitors, a sadistic grin smeared across his features. She furrowed her brow at that thought, then stopped as she saw a small camera placed in the corner of the hallway. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and Rhianne turned her back to the camera, opening the blanket wrapped loosely around her "hey Knives!" she shouted playfully "want some of this? Then come find me!" She smirked, then dashed away into the depths of the ship; that should give him a little motivation to come find her.

She ran down the hallways, ignoring the cold metal beneath her feet and clutching lightly at the sheet wrapped around her. She laughed a bright bubbling giggle as she sped down the corridor, wondering idly when Knives would begin his pursuit and how quickly he would catch her. Around corner after corner she careened, loosing herself in the never-ending hallways and laughing as she went, smothering them with her hand as she did. As she rounded a corner, she came upon a doorframe sporting large burn marks around the doorframe. She smirked. The storage room.

Opening the door she assumed had been replaced during her stay in the bulb, she slipped quietly into the room. She smiled quietly, reminiscing the first time she had entered the room. How long ago had that been? Was it two weeks, a month; two months…? Being in the bulb had messed with her sense of time. She walked over to a rack of ration bars and, ripping of the wrapping, took an enthusiastic bite. She smiled; strawberry. Oh how good it felt to have real food in her stomach, she thought as she bit into the bar again. Grinning simply, Rhianne closed her eyes and allowed the taste to overwhelm her senses. The explosion of sweetness on her tongue, the feel of the bar against her gums as she chewed, feeling it settle satisfyingly in her stomach. It felt so good to be here; being able to enjoy something so simple as a ration bar, after coming so near to death. She smiled a little, grateful be able to repay her debt to her brother and her world, and to be given another chance to live her life with Knives. She felt her lips part in a smile as she thought of her blonde plant. Speaking of Knives, she thought, where is he?

_I'm right here…_

A voice interrupted her thoughts as two hands wrapped around her; one around her mouth and the other around her waist. A small gasp escaped her lips before the hand clamped itself over it. Her hands clawed at the hands that held her until she felt the familiar smoothness of the knuckles that had been dragged over her chin; the fingers that had brushed her hair away with such tenderness, the flatness of the palms that had been so violently pushed against her cheek, and realized who it was through her veil of surprise. 

"Knives!" she cried happily, her voice muffled by his hand as she ceased her thrashing and allowed herself to be pushed against the wall. Her surprised eyes met the laughing ones of the ice-eyed plant she had missed so dearly. 

The hand around her mouth removed itself, and was replaced by the soft, firm caress of Knives' lips. Rhianne gasped momentarily, taken aback by his sudden display of emotion. Her lips parted as she did so and his tongue slipped between them, warm and soft against her own. His hands ran through her hair, tugging gently at the strands and entwining them around his fingers. Lost in the moment, Rhianne moved a hand from its place at her chest, where it had been clutching the blanket, and ran it up his back as he pressed himself against her. Finding it going through his hair to rest at the back of his head and pushing him towards her. A hand grasped itself around her waist, annihilating any space between them as it pulled her even closer. His other hand disentangled itself from her hair and his fingertips traced along her arm as his lips moved to her neck. Rhianne heard herself sigh as her knees buckled beneath the overwhelming weight of her senses. 

She felt his whispered name escape her lips as his hand ran up and down her bare back, running his fingers lightly over the ridges of her spine. His touch was so gentle and his kisses so soft, it like having silk rubbed against her skin. She felt mumbled words slip between her lips, incoherent and indiscernible in her bliss. 

Then his hand slid down to move away the cloth.

__

Knives… she mentally cautioned. He looked at her, his eyes boring into hers "you promised" he stated in a sultry tone. "Well…" Rhianne paused "I didn't mean it; I was just trying to get you to come talk to me." 

"Isn't this a good alternative to talking?" Knives asked softly, running his lips over her neck lightly. She ignored the shiver that ran through her at his actions and pushed him away lightly. "Knives, I don't think we can…" 

His hands wrapped themselves around her hips, grasping them firmly, his fingers pressing the fabric to her skin as though trying to meld the two. His grip tightened as his lips found hers again, and inconspicuously his hand roamed down to her inner thigh; caressing it with his fingertips and causing her to gasp and recoil. 

__

No Knives! She scolded, her lips still meshed together with his. Despite her warning, his hand seemed to find it's way to her thigh again. A deep, throaty noise of disgust escaped Rhianne's lips and she pulled back from him, tearing herself from his grasp.

"Knives" she stated "I. Said. No. I don't want to do this." Her back was pressed against the wall, the cold metal forming goose bumps on her skin. Knives moved up against her, ignoring her words and trapping her between him and the wall. 

"But I do" came the reply. Rhianne's hands snaked between them, splayed out across Knives' chest and pushing him gently backwards. Strong hands wrapped themselves around her wrists and pulled them back, away from him "…and what I want is all that really matters" he stated gruffly, pinning her hands against the wall, backing away and allowing the cloth to fall to the floor. 

As it slid down, falling from her body like a snake sheds its skin, Knives' gaze followed; taking in the expanse of smooth peach skin before him. The curves were delicious, her hourglass figure without blemish of flaw; true to her plant heritage. He couldn't help but run a finger gently over her skin, trailing it along the smooth curves and dips that together formed the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid his tundra eyes upon. She stood so her hipbones protruded a little from her concave stomach, flat as the plains upon which the vermin built their homes, and he felt her shudder under his touch as his fingers ran along the soft skin, and it brought a smile to his lips. 

He knew what she wanted, knew of the fire that blazed within her, nearly as heated as the one inside of him; he felt her desire, and he felt her suppress it as she tried to pull away. 

"Why are you pulling away?" he inquired, his voice rich and deep. Rhianne jerked her head from where it had lolled towards her right shoulder and glared up into his eyes. 

"Because I…because we shouldn't. It wouldn't be right" she stated, forcing her voice to sound firm. But Knives, though no ladies man by any stretch of the imagination, could hear the amorous undertones in her voice. Knives moved back a little, propping himself up on one hand, perched near her shoulder.

"Well we all do things we shouldn't…" he crooned tracing a finger down the length of her torso and twirling it lazily around her navel. He could feel the heat rise within her as her body became warmer, could almost taste it in the thin film that coated her flesh as it became warmer beneath his touch. "Besides, you can't say you don't want me" he stated in a rich suave tone, pinning her hands at her sides and crouching down, licking gently at her belly button. He could feel the shivers ripple through her body as his tongue met her skin, the sweet yet salty taste dancing along his tongue.

"I can't deny that Knives" Rhianne stated, killing the mood yet again and lifting his head up to rest on the top of her thigh so she could look at him as she spoke "but that doesn't make it right" Knives nuzzled the skin lightly, looking up at her with a mask of sadness on his face.

"Please?" he asked lightly, his tone bordering on pleading as he nuzzled her leg with a little more force. Ignoring him, Rhianne clasped her hands over her chest and crouched down on her knees before him, eye-to-eye. She allowed herself the luxury of gliding her fingers across his jaw before letting her index finger rest below his chin. She felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips as she watched his lips twitch in anticipation of a kiss. 

"No Knives I don't want to." she stated firmly for the last time, starting to stand to leave him. But Knives' arms encircled her waist and brought her crashing to the ground next to him with a heavy thud. She tried to move, but his hands grasped her wrists, pinning them next to her head while he straddled her middle, preventing her from bucking him off. 

"What you want isn't always what happens" he stated matter-of-factly, the love gracing his voice earlier left like birds fleeing from the winter's cold. Rhianne's eyes narrowed as she glared up at him, her aqua eyes as cold and lifeless as the tundra skies his eyes mirrored. 

"Is this the way you want it Knives?" she spat as his shirt hit the floor, Knives undoing it with one hand as the other held her hands in place "you want to just take me, force yourself into me like an animal?" 

"If that's what it takes" came the reply. Rhianne snorted. 

"Then you don't love me as you claim. If you truly did, you wouldn't do this" She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block everything out after Knives made a crass remark and moved to spread her legs. As she felt his hand brush her inner thigh, Rhianne's eyes shot open, realizing her chance. 

Moving with the swiftness endowed to her by her heritage, Rhianne swiveled her lower torso beneath him, wrenching her leg from his grasp and striking him in the most sensitive part of him with the heel of her right foot. 

She sniggered, as tears burned at the edges of Knives' eyes, overwhelmed by the pain she had induced. His hands left both her thigh and her wrists and grasped the spot where her heel had struck and the plant wasted no time in scrambling up from the floor and snatching the cloth. 

Knives, doubled over in searing pain, was vaguely aware of her standing before him as he dropped to the floor, gritting his teeth until his jawbone cracked and popped under the pressure. Her foot kicked him forcefully in the back, causing the bones to pop painfully against one another. He cursed as Rhianne walked calmly to the door, almost unnoticing of the mental attacks Knives was hurtling at her, and turned the knob. She didn't notice as it began to glow red with heat; a measly trick like that was why she found it hard to respect him sometimes. And, Rhianne pondered as she went to find Vash, this didn't help her to respect him any, either. 

A/N: See? No rape, sex, anything! *is proud* I think Knives had it coming, trying to do that…oh well. Also, gomen nasai for the lack of updates; the new semester and exams nearly killed me! Ja ne! LL 


	33. Filler

Disclaimer: *LL singing* Trigun, Trigun, o how I wish I owned thee, because then I could have my Knives-kun, and he would belong to meeeeeeeee! ^_^ 

Chapter Thirty-Three:

A strand of sunshine blonde hair fell into the aqua and ocean blue-speckled eyes of the Humanoid Typhoon as he folded the crisp white linen over the mattress and tucked it in gently on the sides. His hands played with the sheets, his nimble fingers smoothing the wrinkled edges away as he pulled the blankets tight over the bed as a small tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

He was relieved to know Rhianne was all right. During the month of Rhianne's recuperation period, he and Knives had taken very little notice of each other; trying to avoid one another at every attainable chance. Not that it wasn't a simple thing to do; Vash had come to the conclusion that his sibling wanted to see him about as much as he wanted to live alongside the humans. Added to the simplicity of the situation was that Knives' ship was extremely large, and many corridors could be taken to arrive at the same place, and he guessed Knives had been following alternate routes to deter himself from him brother. And, as much as it pained the broom-haired man to admit, he was secretly thankful to his brother's anti-socialistic nature, as he was fairly certain that eventually a squabble would have arisen between them and would have risen to dangerous circumstances without Rhianne there to hold Knives back. 

"Oh Knives" Vash sighed a little, standing and smoothing out the bedcovers one final time "you are so in love with her." He smiled what the late Nicholas D. Wolfwood had dubbed his 'empty smile'; a look that appeared, upon first glance, to be a wholesome well-meaning gesture, was empty and devoid of any underlying happiness. He couldn't help but wonder if Meryl had arrived home from her assignment yet. She and her stungun-toting assistant Milly had been sent to track down a notorious thief by the title of Jesse the Jackal (boasted to be 'The Next Humanoid Typhoon" by December Scoop magazine), and had been gone for only a week when Vash had encountered the two other plants. 

Tears prickled the corners of his eyes and threatened to spill over as he thought of Meryl. Her little bob cut that flounced about her slender face when she yelled at him; the way her white cloak fluttered in the desert breeze, concealing a deadly array of derringers; the way her big gray eyes lit up when he waltzed into the room; how good her legs looked in those leotards…. Mmm, yes, Meryl always had a nice figure, and Vash wished nothing more than to have her there to-

A slap resonated around the room and Vash's cheek grew very red and sore all of a sudden. He opened his eyes and looked down a little, seeing a very disheveled, very flustered, and very angry Rhianne standing before him. 

"R-Rhianne, what's up?" he asked, trying to ignore the fact that she had obviously picked up on his thoughts. For a moment his mind dwelled on her current opinion of him; probably something along the lines of a Disgusting Perverted Bastard, and then his eyes focused in on her.

Her eyes were red and swollen with tears, their telltale lines streaked down her cheekbones, leaving tight patches of skin that shone lightly under the lamplight. Her hair, matted and tangled, clung to the wet spots on her cheeks like children to their mother's thighs. Clasped between her hands was the same cloth she had covered herself after being removed from the bulb; which surprised the ocean-eyed male. He had thought she'd have found something to wear by now. Rhianne's lower lip trembled and she fell against him, shuddering deeply. 

"Vash…" she sobbed quietly. The blonde, taken somewhat aback by her sudden display of emotion and unsure of what to do, simply allowed himself to encircle her in his arms, and was surprised to find her arms wrapping themselves around his waist and reaching up to his shoulders. 

"…Rhianne" he finally managed out after allowing her a few minutes to simply lean against him and sob; letting her get it out before telling him her plight "what happened?" The brunette pulled her head back from his chest, her eyes nearly scarlet around the rims, shining with tears still unshed, and stared up into his eyes. Locking gazes with the eyes that mirrored her own, eyes that still, after centuries, clung to the naïve hopes of a child; that hoped that his troublesome brother hadn't caused the girl any grief. Yet his hopes, however naïve, were mistaken. 

"He…" she sighed heavily, nearly allowing herself to collapse onto him again. Resisting the urge to seek refuge in his arms any longer, she pushed herself away and sat heavily down upon the bed that Vash had, mere moments before, straightened to the last wrinkle so immaculately. Despite it, he sat down next to her, taking her hand in his robotic one, ignoring the small jump that the chill it brought to her skin when enveloped in his metallic grasp; he was used to it by now. "Rhianne" he started, squeezing her hand for reassurance "you can tell me. Please, let me help you; what happened?"

"He…" Rhianne sobbed again, momentarily overtaken by her emotions and collapsing into a fit of sobs that wrenched not only at her body but at Vash's heartstrings. Disregarding the hand in his grasp, she buried her face in her other hand, her slender fingers splayed out across her brow, obscuring most of her face with her palm and muffling the sobs considerably. Tears trickled down from her palm and slid down her flushed cheeks as she shook her head hopelessly. Wagging her head from side to side and sobbing, she smothered her mouth with her palm and Vash saw the flash of her pearly white teeth as she bit swiftly down into the tender flesh of her palm; to keep from crying out, he assumed. 

Encircling her wrist with his flesh-and-blood hand, Vash pulled it from her jaw, grimacing at the deep bite marks her teeth had left in the pale skin. He gently swatted away the crimson droplet of blood that blossomed upon it, like a rose in winter's pure snow, where her canine tooth had pierced the mount. 

"Please Rhianne...you have to let it out" he squeezed her hand as he spoke, emphasizing the importance in his words. "I don't want to hear what he did to you that's made you so upset, but you need to tell me before I can help make it better." Vash stated softly, watching helplessly as she quivered beneath the barrage of wrenching sobs that his brother had inevitably brought upon her with another one of his rash actions. 

"No Vash, you can't make it better," Rhianne said quietly, gazing at him with her tear-laden eyes. A nervous hiccup escaped her mouth and she bowed her head, allowing her hair to fall as a curtain between them as she finally admitted to the aqua-eyed plant what caused her so much grief.

"…Knives tried to rape me" she sighed softly, her words nearly naught but a whisper that would have been lost in the gentlest of winds. She heard Vash gasp, and felt his grip on her hands tighten until she had to pull them away for fear of losing circulation.

"Knives…" Vash uttered darkly, the disgust and rage catching upon the word and carrying into Rhianne's ears. Running a hand through her disheveled locks, the female allowed a final sob to emanate from her slightly parted lips, accompanied by a hiccup. She stole a glance at Vash, who sat with his head bowed, much like her, his eyes aglow and encased in a shadow from his drooping spikes. For a moment she thought she caught the sparkle of tears catching in the light as he blinked, but disregarded it, as it disappeared in an instant. 

"I'm sorry for my brother's actions," he spoke at last after remaining silent for a long while "I'll speak with him" he stated, rising suddenly. In an instant, Rhianne was on her feet "Vash, don't get involved. Knives is my problem, not yours." Vash's gaze leveled with her own, dark and menacing and filled with ferocity that, until that moment, Rhianne hadn't thought it possible for a pacifist such as himself to contain. "Knives had always been my problem" he stated darkly before exiting the room, leaving the distraught woman to herself. 


	34. Sibling Rivalry

Disclaimer: What's the point? After 33 chapters with me pointing out how I don't own Trigun, haven't you figured it out yet?? Oh well, for you illiterate few who don't know: I don't own Trigun. Wait…._illiterate_ few??….nevermind.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Sibling Rivalry 

A/N: Oh Gods it's been a while, hasn't it? I've been so busy I nearly forgot about this little ficcy. Well….I wasn't exactly motivated because I don't get many reviews. Yes, I do realize that it's almost like conning people into reviewing, but that's not what I'm doing. I'm saying I feel more motivated when I get reviews; not that I'm going to stop the story completely. (Just making things clear because I've seen people get flamed for it) But enough of my babbling, on with the chapter!

The sound of running water filled the hallways of Knives' ship, the cheerful sound of water churning and bubbling as it splashed into the tub setting Rhianne's mind a little more at ease.

Sitting on the edge of the porcelain tub, the female plant watched the clear, cold water flow downward out of the tap. Her sharp eyes caught every play of light on the water, watching how it shimmered and danced under the soft glow of the bathroom lights. She sighed, running her hand through the waterfall coming from the tap, marveling at the feeling of the cold water over her skin. She reached her dripping hand up and turned off the tap, and stood, dropping her cloth as she did. Closing her eyes, she focused on the near-full tub and stepped, a moment later, into steamy near-scalding water.

Sliding into the bath, Rhianne couldn't help but sigh as the water touched her skin. The heat was a most welcome feeling, and a considerably more pleasant feeling than the nothingness that the bulb had placed on her skin; the feeling of nothing-no air, no wind-nothing, against her skin wasn't one she felt the need to experience again anytime soon. 

A small smile made it's way to her lips as she felt the water soothe her cramped muscles; knots and strains she wasn't even aware she had. Grabbing a nearby bar of soap, she set about to lathering her skin, trying to rid herself of the feeling of Knives' touch.

Almost instantaneously after touching upon the thought of the ice-eyed plant, she wondered what was coming to pass between the two brothers as Vash tried to defend her honor. A sigh escaped her submerged lips, and her near-closed eyes watched as the bubbles popped listlessly on the surface of the steaming water. Closing her eyes and allowing her mind rid itself of thought, slipping her thoughts and sights seamlessly into the unguarded mind of the broom-haired man as he strode purposely down the corridor, ready to tear his twin limb from limb or as close unto death as his pacifistic ways could muster. 

Allowing herself to link his thoughts with hers, Rhianne listened intently as the thoughts coursed through his mind, cursing his brother at every other word. Looking through his eyes Rhianne watched as he walked down the corridors in search of his brother, and she quietly slipped her ability to sense someone's mind into play, directing him down a hallway to the right. At the end of the hallway a door stood, slightly ajar. Light from the crevice spilled onto the corridor, making the dust that danced in the highly ventilated air visible; little particles dancing a slow tango as Vash walked by, disturbing them and upsetting their slow, synchronized dance.

He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching Knives in the room beyond. The room, as Vash had found out early during his stay, was Knives' usual haunt. Punching bags hung from the high-ceilinged room, stretch mats lay on the floor, and weights of every shape and size littered the room, ranging from free weights to large mechanical contraptions consisting of several workout machines in one. Knives stood in the near center of the room, ferociously punching a bag dangling from the ceiling. 

Rhianne, despite her enraged state towards Knives, couldn't stop herself from admiring him. Sweat glistened on his forehead, occasionally dropping off his face in large salty droplets as he jerked his head. The muscles on his bared chest, solid and tight. The intricate play of the muscles in his arms as he lunged them forward in a punch and drew them back to him. His agility as he moved around the punching bad, resting on the balls of his naked feet. The ferocity with which he attacked was breathtaking, a display of true power of the body and mind. 

"Knives" Vash stated icily, causing his twin to stop in his movements. Knives glared through his bangs at him, his eyes both enraged and weary. 

"Yes, Vash?" he sighed, rolling his eyes. Rhianne focused for a moment on Knives' mind as he stood there, and caught upon his train of thought, contemptuous and begrudging: _Oh boy, here we go…_

"Why could you do that to her?" Vash asked darkly, stepping into the room. Knives sighed, dropping his arms to his sides, his hands still clenched into fists "because I wanted to" he stated, hoping his meddlesome twin would simply turn tail and leave, as he was in no mood for his twin's childish antics at the moment. 

The darker blonde stepped defiantly into the room, quashing any of Knives' earlier hopes. "Knives, do you realize how much you hurt her?"

The other man shrugged nonchalantly "do I care? If she would like to see things in a negative light then that's her own fault." Vash narrowed his eyes "what? How can you say something like that?"

"She should see it as I am attracted to her physically and that I simply want to show her that I feel that way by sleeping with her" Knives stated, his voice as cold as a slate. 

"Knives…how can you see things that way? You tried to rape her! That isn't something easily excusable, you know! You had no right-"

"And what gives you the right to judge me?" Knives cut in waspishly "you, the little pacifist that would never hurt a goddamned fly? You figure you can just barge back into my life and tell me what to do? Where do you get _that_ right, Vash?"

"I'm your brother, for one" Vash stated quietly. Knives' icy eyes narrowed 

"Oh yes, my brother who left me for the better part of a hundred years, then tried to kill me with a gift I bestowed to him. The one who can't get his head out of the clouds to see what's going on right in front of his eyes; who refuses to suck it up do what will guarantee him happiness in the future because of one insignificant woman he barely knew. My brother, Vash the Stampede, who left his only kin for the vermin."

"You killed all of them! You killed untold thousands of humans for no reason at all!" Vash cried, tears forming in his eyes "what was I supposed to do? Sit back and let you wipe out an entire race? You seem to think that you can get away with everything, just because you're a plant. Our heritage doesn't mean we have unlimited freedom, it instead gives us the huge responsibility to defend those who can't protect themselves. Killing people is a coward's way out, Knives. And if you can't live up to your responsibilities the way everyone else has to then you're less of a man than I thought." 

"Vash…" Knives breathed deeply "I would like it very much if you left now. Now, before we both do things we will later regret."

"No" the Stampede shot back "I'm so sick of you thinking you can get away with everything. I hope Rhianne leaves you, Knives, because you don't deserve her"

"….And you do?" came the quiet, deadly response. Vash blinked for a moment "what?"

"Oh don't pull that with me Vash. We can read each other's minds, remember. It's one of our gifts as superior beings. You love her. You love _my Rhianne_."

"I…I…what?" Vash stammered, unable to cope with Knives' sudden accusation. 

"Oh don't pull that with me Vash. I've known you your whole life-"

"No you don't. You barely know me, Knives. I've lived almost my entire life without you, and I can go on living it again. I can go back to Meryl-"

"Meryl" Knives spat her name out as though it burned his tongue to speak it "that worthless piece of filth will soon wither and die like the weed she is. And what then, Vash? You will be left alone, again. Left to wander the sandy soil of this accursed world for the rest of your never-ending lifetime. But, ah, wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to spend your life with someone of your own race, someone who will never grow old and die with you? Someone who won't leave you and slip out of your grasp like grains of sand. Someone like Rhianne."

"Can I help it Knives?" Vash nearly sobbed, his eyes flooding with tears "you treat her so badly. She deserves better! She loves you Knives, but if you treat her like an object, she will leave you."

"Then she leaves me" Came the dark reply. Vash felt himself begin to shake with anger, willing his eyes not to glow with the rage building within him "Knives, you _have_ to treat her better. You're lucky she hasn't left already"

"If she wants to leave, then so be it; the bitch means nothing to me." Knives stated darkly.

Rhianne pulled her head out of the steamy water "what?!" she gasped, her mouth half-filling with water as she did so. Knives didn't care? Knives didn't….surely that couldn't be. 

Could it?

Rising from the tub, Rhianne felt her sadness slide off her like the droplets of water, being replaced by a dark rage that seemed to sweep over her like a crimson curtain. If Knives didn't care, then that's how it would be. She wouldn't stay here; not with him. 

Gathering up the cloth she strode from the bathroom, her still damp feet leaving telltale tracks along the metal floor. She sobbed lightly as she walked; woe-begotten sounds that refused to be contained merely by her anger. Tears falling from her downcast eyes mixed with the water falling from her dripping hair into warm salty rivers flowing over the apples of her cheeks and then taking the perilous plunge from her defiantly set chin to the floor. 

Vash Vash Vash Vash… were the only words she could get a firm grasp on; everything was rushing by too quickly, blowing about her brain like pebbles in a sandstorm. Linking her mind to his again, she followed the steady thread of angry thought in his head to find him sitting in Knives' kitchen, munching sullenly on a donut. 

"Vash" she stated, her voice as flat as the planes of the planet "I want to leave"


	35. Preparing to Leave

Disclaimer: *Sighs* You know, with being grounded and all, you'd think I'd have time to think of a witty disclaimer. Well no dice, I don't own Trigun.

Chapter Thirty-Five:

A/N: The answer to all those uber-short chappies I've been writing lately.

Tears poured over Rhianne's eyelids, despite her effort to keep them at bay. Gods, it hurt to say those words. It hurt like a piece of ice shattering in her heart, spreading a terrible numbness throughout her; allowing the crushing sense of reality to sink in like a poison in her veins, halting the flow of blood. She could nearly feel it, her heart beating, yet no blood coursing through her, ready to fill her with the determination that she so desired in her situation. Her blood felt frozen in her very veins, halted by her realization of her intentions. Turned to stone in her body, weighing her down and slowing her thoughts until they were nearly stopped completely. 

"You can't be serious" he stated. Simply, as though it were nothing, a mere overreaction to a trivial issue "you can't leave Knives." 

"Oh can't I?" she challenged, placing her hands on her hips defiantly. Her eyes burned with anger, hurt and humiliation that shone dangerously in her pupils "and why should I stay? Look what he tried to do to me!" she flung open the cloth, displaying the bruises and scratches spotting her body. Sickly, eggplant purple spots dotted her wrists, while scratches and other, more brownish bruises doted the rest of her torso. Red marks trailed up her neck, love bites from Vash's brother. 

"Oh gods…" Vash gasped, involuntarily covering his mouth with his prosthetic hand. Her body was a battleground of color; mixing and blurring at the edges of her pale skin, flushed with anger and humiliation. The reds, the flushed pink of her skin, the fading poppy red of where he had struck her, sliding slowly into the ivory of her flesh, reminding him of the way the colors faded into one another on the tender petal of a rose. And truly, this woman, who bared herself, and her faults and mistakes before his eyes with a moving sense of honesty- as if to say that she accepted the consequences of her actions, be they of her own will or not- was a rose if there ever was one. Scratches slashed through the tender, rose-like quality of her skin, bruising and marring it like they would a real petal. Maroon bruises, spotty and sickeningly ripe, dominated any expanse of skin not already discolored; fading into a sickly, swampy yellow that reminded Vash of the pus that leaked from an infected wound, pushing to the red surface of the skin like a bad memory. Rhianne's lip, slip open and cherry with blood, quivered at the bombardment of emotions that seemed to consume her whole. "You see?" she spat "this is what he did to me; do you expect me to stay here when _this_" she pointed to the dark shadow between her thighs "is all I'm worth to him?" 

"Rhianne, Knives is just upset and-"

"I won't have it Vash!" she cried, throwing the cloth around herself and falling to her knees. She remembered the last time she had done that, and recalled all too clearly the biting pain of the bullets that had embedded themselves into her flesh as she pressed against them; the blood that seeped out of the holes in her flesh and into the sand. The pain was overwhelming, crashing down upon her like a wave upon the sand; yet it paled in comparison to the pain she felt now. The crushing sense of humiliation, of knowing she had been used, and of knowing that all she was to Knives was a means of physical pleasure; to sit there and have him force himself into her whenever he pleased. 

"I can't stay here and live a life like this! Just some toy for Knives to use when he wants to get off! I feel like that's all he sees in me, and I won't stick around and have him force himself on me" 

"Maybe you should talk it over with him" Vash intersected quietly. She sighed angrily, "I have no interest in talking to Knives right now, if ever again" she snarled, her voice sounding far more aggressive than she'd meant for it so be. She crouched next to him, placing a gentle hand on his knee "Vash, I'm sorry if I've upset you. I'm really upset right now, too, and I apologize if I've upset you any more. But" she wiped a tear from her cheek "I can't stay here; not with him the way he is."

"But.." Vash started to feebly protest, raising his downcast gaze to meet hers. "No" Rhianne stated, pressing a finger to his lips "I'm leaving. That's final." Large, hopeful eyes that mirrored her distinctive color met her own "can't I change your mind?" he asked one last time. 

"No Vash; you can't" she stated, rising "but you know what you can help me with?" 

"What's that?" came the reply as they went to the door.

"I need clothes; do you have my things I bought?" she asked, turning back to him. A slight blush rose to his cheekbones "funny thing about that…" he trailed off, placing a hand behind his head in a rather comical fashion. The brunette cocked an eyebrow "what happened to my stuff?" she asked dangerously. 

"Well, you see…"

_she must never know…_

"We were sort of in a rush when we left town, you know?" he replied promptly. He was worried she's pry, but her finely plucked brow slid gracefully back into it's natural curve and she walked out into the hallway.

"Which way is your room? I'll have to wear some of your clothes" she said, turning to face him again. Vash looked thoughtful for a moment, then crossed his arms in front of himself, pointed one hand towards the ceiling and one towards the hallway to their right

"There's about a hundred ways to get there from here; take your pick" he stated, smiling a little "which way's the fastest?" Rhianne asked.

"Nuh…. That way, then down the stairs and to the left" Vash motioned to the right corridor with his head and unwound his arms. Rhianne shrugged and started to walk in that direction, Vash in tow. They walked to the end of the corridor in silence, Rhianne stewing in her anger and Vash too smart to poke at her when she was in such a state. He gazed silently at her as they walked, pitying her almost as he pitied his narrow-minded brother. She had given her heart to Knives, and he had tried to use her instead of loving her; pushing her away time and time again. After so much rejection, he supposed, she must have gotten tired of it. He could understand why; it was so difficult to be hurt by someone you loved. He knew from experience. She looked so lost and forlorn; dejected and sad; she reminded Vash of himself, wallowing in his self-pity all those years. He remembered the feeling of isolation, of feeling completely and inexorably alone. She looked just that way, as though the world had forgotten her, given the leftovers of life. She sniffled, a tear sliding slowly down her cheek, and he couldn't resist; he moved in front of her and pulled her into his arms in an embrace. 

"Vash?" she murmured, her voice choked with emotion and tears. "Shh" he crooned, gathering her up in his arms. He remembered how he had felt, wishing someone could hold him until he felt better; and no one had ever been around to. _I'm not letting her feel the same way; she isn't alone_ he thought fiercely as he carried her down the hall; Rhianne with her arms draped around his neck and sobbing softly into his shoulder. She closed her eyes, her sobs hushed by the lulling sound of Vash's breath. She cradled her head between his neck and shoulder, her ear pressed against the folds of his light blue shirt. Her eyelashes fluttered against the fabric like ravens upon the afternoon sky; and, enshrined in a temple of self-induced darkness, she felt his smell wrap around her like a silken scarf. She could smell the sand on him, ground into his skin over years of travelling; the starch of his shirt, fresh and clean against the smell of his light perspiration; and the scent of gunpowder, a familiar odor that had embedded itself in him like another scar into him after decades of companionship. His rhythmic breathing calmed her as she let her breath flow in time with his; marveling at how having such a small connection with him soothed her so much. His steps quickened as he went down the stairs, and he managed to glide a hand under her hair, cupping her skull and stopping it from bouncing against his shoulder. She leaned against it gratefully, feeling his fingers graze her skin and sighing as her hair moved between his fingers. They descended the stairs and traveled the length of the hallway; Rhianne moving her fingers slowly along his back, feeling the bumps and grooves beneath the intertwining threads of his shirt. 

She placed an open hand against his chest, feeling the rising and falling as he breathed, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each breath he took. She could hear his blood flow, how the muscles pulled and contracted against each other, the beating of his heart, the swell of his lungs as they filled with air, the softness of his skin beneath his shirt, were all beneath her slender fingertips; and she focused on the sounds and the feelings of these things. Because his body was like a silent orchestra playing in perfect harmony; each part of him acting a role, playing a part of the tune, crying part of the call, and singing a small part of the song of life. 

Everything seemed to jerk for a moment, causing Rhianne to open her eyes. The arm supporting her back moved, fording her to take grip on his shoulders as to not fall. The realization hit her then that they must have arrived at Vash's quarters as the male plant took a step forward before shutting the door quietly behind him. As his arm came back to cradle her head and take the weight of her back, Rhianne felt his biceps tense as he took a few steps to his bed. There, upon blankets he had dyed red himself did he place her. Her eyes gazed up at him, speaking volumes of gratitude that no words would ever say; that no sound nor motion could ever grasp. Her hair, though knotted and tangled, seemed vibrant and alive against the red blankets, as though the chestnut halo framing her ivory face danced in gratitude. 

She watched him through her lashes as he moved around the room, hastily grabbing things he thought they would need. A smile parted her lips as he scurried about the room, grabbing a shirt off a hanger and a lone sock from a drawer, then quickly stuffing them into the cylinder-shaped travelling pack. Every minute or so he'd throw an item of clothing in her direction, apologizing incessantly for packing so hurriedly. Holding her cloth to herself, Rhianne sat up on the bed and surveyed the assortment of clothes she was to chose from. Her brows knotted together between her eyes for a moment before travelling to the broom-haired man, who was in the process of pulling a small black cat from under the bed. He looked at it stupidly, and the animal gazed back with the same blank expression; they stayed that way for a moment before he threw it over his shoulder as the cat mewed 'nyah'. 

"Vash" she prodded as he pulled a boot from under the bed "this may sound stupid; but you don't have any…underwear for girls, do you?"

He froze in the action of throwing an orange and green tie over his shoulder and averted his gaze from hers. "Vash?" the female asked again as a furious color of red bloomed in his cheeks "do you have any-"

"I heard you" he stated, his voice monotone. Holding the cloth, Rhianne crawled over to him and met his downcast gaze by lifting his chin up "well, do you?" she asked. Vash covered his eyes and pointed to a small box in the corner of the room. She followed his gaze and rose, crouching next to the box and hesitantly lifting the lid. She inhaled deeply and plunged her hand into the box, it emerged a moment later, a pair of lacy red panties hooked over her index finger. 

"Vash" she stated somberly at the furiously flushing gunman, who was trying in vain to hide under the bed "why do you have women's underwear in your room?" 

"Well Meryl was gone away so long that I kept some of her things to remind me of her…" he stated, looking flustered and tapping his index fingers together. Rhianne leaned in towards the panties hesitantly "well are they at least clean?" she asked, crinkling her nose. 

Silence.

"Ew! Vash!" she screamed, throwing the box at him, thoroughly disgusted. It landed atop his head, pouring the contents over his face as he fell backwards at the impact "that's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard!" she cried, shaking her hands and wiping them on the cloth. He sat back up, removing a black bra from his hair. In a manner that Rhianne found most disgusting, he brought the fabric to his nose and sniffed it with vigor, his face aglow. But, yet, after a moment, his face drooped with disappointment

"This one's clean" he stated, handing it to her. Rhianne picked it from his hand gingerly, not quite sure weather or not she would feel comfortable wearing someone else's underwear- particularly Vash's girlfriend's. "Okay then Vash, find me a clean bottom pair" she stated, wrinkling her nose and turning to the pile of clothes on the bed; not particularly wanting to see him in the process of finding a clean pair. She gazed at the clothes laid out before her; all probably too big (as Vash was a few inches tall than her) Besides, his clothes were rather bland, and she much preferred the red overcoat he'd been wearing before. It had been nothing like the one she had seen on the television programs about him back home; a huge thing with billions of buttons and straps. The coat he had been wearing when she had first seen him had been a simple red trench coat, doing up with small clasps up the front. Thinking about how much she'd like to borrow that coat, Rhianne chose a beige top and black pants, both of which turned out to only be an inch or so too long by her estimation. 

"Vash?" she called over her shoulder, not looking back "have you found a clean pair yet?" she heard him mutter something indiscernible in an amorous tone, and sighed "Vash, stop being a pervert and throw me a clean pair, will you?" she stated, her voice thick with annoyance. She suddenly felt several thuds against the back of her head, and took it to be the clean pairs. Instructing Vash to leave, she set to dressing. As she heard the door close, she dropped the cloth to the floor, then allowing a sigh to fall from her lips. She didn't want Vash's pity. She didn't want anyone to pity her; it made her feel too weak. And that's precisely how she felt, she concluded as she strapped the bra in place. What Knives had tried to do had taken her completely off-guard, caught her at one of her weakest moments, and had made her feel as though she had no control over anything anymore. She felt helpless, like a damsel in distress with no knight to save her. Perhaps, she pondered, that was what Vash was trying to be? Her knight in shining armor? Ready to rush in on his white horse and save her from the clutches of the evil knight? The only problem she could see with that scenario was that she didn't want to be saved from the evil knight; she just wanted the evil knight to love her as she did him. Wasn't that quite the twist on the old fairy-tale, she smiled, pulling the shirt over her head. Although she was bothered by Vash's pity for her, she could understand why he was so concerned about her; having spent years alone, wandering the desolate desert by himself must have taken a toll on him. The idea had crossed her mind that Vash might like her, but had dismissed it as soon as she had realizes that he had a girlfriend. _She must be a nice girl to have gotten Vash's attention_ She smiled, slipping on her pants over her underwear. 

"Vash" she called, rising and folding the blanket as Vash entered. She thanked him as she gently packed the blanket on top of the other items in the bag, Vash accepting her thanks gracefully as he tied up the top of the bag, Rhianne donning an extra pair of boots he had left for her. Neither said anything as they left the room, both wondering what awaited them; and neither al too eager to have their questions answered. 

An uncomfortable silence descended upon them; a pregnant pause in which Rhianne's seed of anxiety was fertilized by Vash's seed of discomfort. Neither would admit it, but they were both secretly dreading their exit; and what would inevitably await them when they arrived. The confrontation would most likely be nothing short of brutal, with bloodshed an inescapably real option. Mentally, they concluded that they would rather it not come to that; but weren't afraid to spill the blood of the ice-eyed plant should things escalate. Rhianne agreed with the blond plant when he stated he would not kill his brother should it come down to it; she didn't care to wound the wheat-haired man at all, but knew of the importance her exit would play in her life on Gunsmoke. She hoped fervently she wouldn't have to spill Knives' blood in order to leave, but was more than willing to do so should the situation demand it. 

The thought was still fresh in her mind when they came to the door; and, more precisely, the figure slumped before it, a colt clutched tightly in his hand. 

"Knives" Vash said, stepping into a beam of light falling through a small window some twenty feet up, his eyes narrowed and his hand reaching for the gun riding at his hip "let us through"

A small chuckle came from Knives' silhouette "are you going to shoot me Vash?" he asked mockingly. Vash bit his lip and aimed it at his brother, his muscles clenched, his trigger finger quivering in anticipation and fear

"If I have to"


	36. Facing Knives

Disclaimer: *wishes she owned Trigun* 

Chapter Thirty-Six: Facing Knives

A/N: Hey, I have a bunch of poems over at fictionpress.net that need reviewing, care to help me out and go review them?

Perhaps it was unfair to say she had never been as terrified as this moment that fate had dealt her; perhaps it was unfair for fate to have dealt her this situation to begin with, to choose between her lover and her freedom. Perhaps, the plant pondered, it would have been better had she never left her planet to begin with. Should she have stayed there, maybe the two brothers might not have had to come together again under the strenuous circumstances that had linked them these past few months. Had she not burdened them with her presence, the might not have been faced with each other and the knowledge that they might perish in this scuffle that held little bearing over either of their lives, simply for this chestnut-haired woman of whom they knew little and, yet, held in higher regards that the other. It struck her, as she stood there, the sunlight on a slant through the window, falling upon the two like a spotlight on a stage, that neither wanted to do this; and, for both parties, their battle was in her honor. The particles of dust danced and leapt in the air, stirred by the Vash's movement for the colt that rode permanently at his hip, and she touched upon the thought that they were the only things in any real sort of movement in the corridor. Each plant seemed to stand still, statues frozen in a battle never destined to occur, only to be commenced, yet never to be conceived. It seemed, to her, that the dust was the only thing truly alive in that entire ship; that they, bioengineered beings who had abandoned their true purpose in life to bicker and fight their entire eternal existence, weren't really alive at all. For they were not meant to live, and yet, there they stood in this ship that never should have been. Their entire circumstance had never been meant to pass; for the ships to fall, the plants to live enslaved for over a century, for the only two men capable of saving their sisters too wrapped in either their own self-hate and pity or their hatred and disgust for all save themselves to do anything about it. As for herself, she knew not where her piece was meant to land upon this unpredictable chessboard of circumstance. Yet this thought, this thought that stated that she knew nothing of what was to pass twixt the siblings standing before her, weapons drawn and ready to fire, to snuff out the life of their only blood kin; she only had a feeling, deep and growing in the pit of her stomach, that blood would be spilled, and it wouldn't that of the sunshine blonde that defended her honor so chivalrously. 

Not knowing what was to come, having naught a clue as to the outcome of the battle of the brothers, chilled her to the very marrow of the bone. They would fire at any moment, of that fact and that fact alone she was certain. The wheat-haired man who touched her in previously unknown manners, who kissed her with such ferocity that her knees threatened to buckle and collapse to the floor, who showed love and compassion only at the most fleeting of moments, yet made her heart swell with pride and her stomach feel at though a million monarch butterflies swarmed therein, yet was so cold and cruel when provoked that it made her feel hollow and used, who treated her like an object or mere toy to do with as he pleased, and who, she knew, would not his precious item through without a damned good fight. 

She was not aware of who moved first, each cocking their colts, the terrible sound filling the heavy air in the corridor. The sunlight caught on the surface of the guns, each polished to a near-reflective finish, sending flashes of opal light dancing over the bare walls and for a moment then all was still again. Neither of the twin plants moved. Perhaps, she pondered, neither was willing to exact the movements that would restart their struggle against the other. For near a decade they had lived in harmony with one another, Knives in the confines of his ship until the day he craved so dearly should arrive: the day that his brother's bride's worthless, lecherous body crumbled away like the pitiful creature she was and turned unto dust to blow uselessly around the planet like her long-dead ancestors; blowing furiously for a time, caught by the wind that never ceased to blow, and then to rest lazily twixt the parts of his sisters. The sand and corpse dust that would clog his sister's fluid movements like fat in a vein, building up slowly but steadily until her parts could take no more and she died, wondering what cruel twist of fate, which ruling of a gods hand, which foolish spider had given up hope on her and turned his ignorant back on her. And Vash, temporarily freed of the burden of his genocidal twin, could lead his life as he pleased; living a quiet life in December with Meryl. And how he relished these days of peace, for his bounty had been dropped five years after his match with Knives. Half a decade had passed and no sign of the Humanoid Typhoon had been reported, and Vash's name faded from the press nearly as quickly as it had appeared; there one day and gone the next. Gone, yes, but not forgotten. His name would live forever in the history books, he knew, for he was the first Act of God upon the ill-begotten little dust ball they called home. The title he had received due to his brother's actions; his brother who lay in silently in wait, like a cat ready to pounce upon the mouse, in the confines of his ship until the day that Meryl's life was snuffed out like the flame on a slim taper. But Vash was content to dwell upon the moment, for he had her and she had him. For once in the near century and a half of his life, Vash the Stampede was content to stay as he was.

It seemed that his attitude to his life at the moment also applied to this situation, the female plant concluded, for both were still without movement; their still forms lacking the fluidity their heritage had endowed them. She remained clear with herself that it wasn't bloodshed she sought out, but simply her passage out of the infernal ship where she was being kept; shut in at the doorway before the exit, so near and yet so far from the freedom she sought so fervently. Standing behind Vash she could see small beads of perspiration forming at his hairline, the result of the pressure weighing down upon his shoulders. She could smell the poignant scent of sweat tainting the air; filling the sterile, filtered air with a scent so alive that she could scarce believe that the air could smell so real. Because to her, the air in this ship was fake, the highly filtered air purified until nary a speck of dust remained to justify that anyone save machines inhabited the huge mechanical mansion. 

The scent struck her like a slap to the face, wrenching her from her thoughts and observations and hurtling her into movement before her senses even became aware of her arms and legs going without her mind realizing it. Her legs lurched her forward, and the feeling of her feet pulling out roots that embedded themselves into the tiles as they lifted nearly caused her to stumble forward. But her arms, quick and honed through years of training, threw themselves out before her and she watched, awestruck, as her flat palms made contact with the floor and the corridor spun vertically before her eyes, stretched wide around her irises at her movements, which seemed to happen without her mind's consent; her muscles moving swiftly forward, leaving her poor stunned mind behind. A flash of light flashing from Vash's gun that slashed into her eyes brought black dots that danced and spun in her vision as she became vaguely aware of a small metal ring fit itself around her index finger and spin out of his hand as her feet made contact with the floor again. As she felt her feet flatten against the tiles, she was thankful for the jagged grips on the bottom of her boots. As her toes touched the floor, her body lurched itself into a standing position, and her arm holding the gun extending itself in front of her as the other fell to her side, the colt spinning madly upon her index finger of her left hand until her wrist snapped forward, her fingers watching the grip of the gun and cocking the gun again with her thumb as the colt came to sit snugly in her hand, aimed between Knives' icy eyes. 

"Let me out Knives" she stated darkly, her grip tightening on the gun. Behind her she could hear Vash stumbling and tripping over his words at his astonishment at his now-vacant palm before his eyes; the familiar feeling of his colt replaced by the air and dust steeling on his leather-bound palm. Behind her one plant stumbled with himself while before her the other stood firm, his tundra-sky eyes narrowing as a small sneer lit itself upon his lips. 

"Would you really shoot me Rhianne?" he inquired, his voice like a tiger in the jungle, dark, bloodthirsty and menacing. His gun twitched, a small involuntary movement that caused the girls red lips to pull back in a small smile "I think the question is, Knives, would _you_ shoot _me_?" she asked, stepping closer. Knives' gun shook again. She took another step, closing the few feet between them until she was mere inches from him; her aqua eyes looking down the barrel of his ebony gun and right into his. Something in them terrified him, sent a thrill right through him at the prospect of wiping out that defiant shine in her eyes, and his finger twitched against the trigger. Mere ounces stood between her and death, and yet she stepped closer, pressing the barrel against the flesh of her forehead. Knives could smell her fear, and he relished it as an animal does right before it tears into the soft flesh of its prey. He could smell her fear and her sweat and her scent as it wrapped around him like a strip of silk; beautiful but so easy to ruin with the poignant scent of blood. And yet he wished it so, craved her blood with an inhuman hunger that gnawed ravenously away at the very core of his being. He could picture it, the bullet drilling itself mercilessly into her skull, the blood flowing from that small puncture in her head like crimson water spilling from a gourd; raining shimmering red backslash over the walls and his brother who stood stock still in his fear. He could nearly feel the warm taste of it as it splashed against his face like a ruby red wave, and he could almost see the light fade out of those damnably defiant eyes as she fell to the blood-stained floor. His nostrils flared excitedly at the thought of smelling that bronzy, bittersweet smell that he had gone without so long and watch those eyes fill up with blood and leak crimson tears for him. The urge was nearly insatiable, almost unable to be fulfilled and it taunted him because she was only ounces away from death and only ounces from filling his needs…

"Come on Knives" she spoke quietly "I dare you"

For a moment there was silence.

Then the deafening shot rang out. 


	37. Taking Responsability

Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be great if I owned Trigun?

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Taking Responsibility 

The silence was thick as ice and hot as the flames of hell twixt the plants. Between the lovers a gaze was shared; one of absolute loathing and hatred for the other, a gaze of disbelief, misunderstanding, that was completely end utterly equal and level to the gaze of the other. The broom-haired man who stood by silently stared in awestruck disbelief at the scene unfolding before his wide-stretched aqua eyes. His hands twitched at his sides, his fingers digging ferociously into the flesh of his hands to ensure that he wasn't in some horrible nightmare. But, alas, he found that he was well awake and this scene of betrayal and bloodshed couldn't be left behind simply by opening his eyes and shutting it away in the darkest recesses of his mind, only to haunt him in his darkest hours as so many other things did. 

The chestnut-haired woman, who stood so valiantly before her maniacal lover and met his gaze with fiery defiance blazing within, trembled; trembled at the confrontation that had been inevitable, yet one that she dreaded with the whole of her eternal being. Her eyes were wide with fear and horror at what had just happened, her mind grappling with the idea that had just been presented to her; her senses flooded with anger, guilt and hurt were now bombarded with this tidal wave of icy cold numbness that was this fear. Fear that such as she had never known before; fear that enshrouded her mind like a thick, impenetrable fog, settling itself around her mind and her senses. She tried to push her fear away, now was not the time to dwell inside a self-constructed prison, but it eluded her like icy pebbles of sand that slipped effortlessly through her fingers and still remained at her feet, numbing them and sending the empty cold feeling flowing through her veins and slowing her thought and sense of reality. The fear was near overwhelming to the point where the room spun dizzily before her eyes, making her fight to keep her balance. Yet it was so hard to stand against this fear that presented itself to her and consumed her like a hungry lion would a gazelle. 

And yet this was in no way what the ice-eyed man who stood opposite her felt. His mind grappled instead with a grim sense of disbelief, cold and gray beneath the well-lit corridor; yet well at home within his dark mind. His fingers twitched involuntarily, clenching and unclenching themselves without his consent; fighting the sense of fear that ebbed at his mind like the tide, rising steadily higher and higher until it would come crashing down upon him and flood his mind in a watery barrage of misunderstanding, disbelief and, the emotion that terrified him more than death itself: fear. He would not allow himself to succumb to a manipulative emotion such as this; an emotion that, the circumstances allowing, was completely acceptable. Yet he was Millions Knives, and he feared nothing. Tears welled at the corners of his icy eyes, reminding the woman staring into them of a piece of ice beneath the noonday sunlight: watery and brilliant. They ebbed at his lids; moistening his raven lashes into a deep ebony as they spilled over the soft flesh beneath his eyes and trickled slowly down the apples of his cheeks, flushed against the pallor of his surrounding skin. His colt shook in his hand, still pressed against her skull. None of them spoke; none of them sure what had happened.

A small teardrop of blood, crimson and glittering beneath the sunlight, fell to the floor.

It began as a small trickle, a few drops spilling carefully to the tiles as though afraid to unleash the tidal wave within. But those precious few droplets had cracked the dam, and a cascade of blood began to pour from the wound like a waterfall from the mouth of a cavern. The hole was small, yet the bullet had sliced easily through the flesh as a hot knife cuts through butter. It bubbled ferociously, large air bubbles forming and popping, sounding like warm, sickeningly wet burps as a puddle began to form between the two plants, lapping gently at their boots as ripples that were caused by the blood cascading from the wound. A hand moved to the wound in disbelief, probing the hole gently with a forefinger before withdrawing it with a sharp gasp. Yes, the hole in them was real and yes, they were bleeding. It was true that it was their blood falling to the floor in a puddle, tainting the air with a biting, metallic smell. Hands grasped at the wound, trying to cover it and vainly trying to stop the blood from gushing so quickly out. Yet it was of no use; the wound did not heal beneath their touch and the blood did not stop pouring at their will; they were not that divine beings that they could stop their own fast-approaching death. A high cry laced with pain accompanied the dark, wet sound of the dripping blood as two fingers probed into the wound and withdrew the bullet, covered in small bits of flesh and drenched in blood. Their eyes narrowed in on it, barely able to believe that it had been inside them, causing them such pain and suffering; concluding that it was nearly laughable, that a small piece of metal such as this could cause someone like them to feel such pain. And yet they cried, and a cry of rage erupted from their trembling lips:

"You shot me!" The voice was laced with disbelief and pure and undaunted rage.

"Yes Knives, I did"

Her voice was like ice, reflecting the color of his polar eyes in her tone. Her eyes were narrow, glazed and cunningly concealing the woe gnawing away at her due to her actions. She could barely conceive her actions; could hardly understand what she had just done. Was the bullet lying so solemnly on the floor in the ever-growing lake of blood what she had just thrust so violently into Knives' stomach? Had it been her hand that had pressed so rashly against the trigger and harmed the man she loved? Was it possible…? Yes, the metallic, sickeningly ripe scent of blood tainting the air spoke the words that she dreaded: yes, her hand had brought suffering to the man she loved.

Knives' throat made a strange inhuman gurgle and trickles of blood began to fall from his quivering lips "why Rhianne….?" He gasped, his voice weak and thin beneath the blanket of pain smothering him. Tears pricked the corners of Rhianne's eyes, threatening to spill over as she watched his gaze travel up to her face, relaying pain that she could only begin to imagine. It was too much to bear. She turned her head back to Vash and nodded in the direction of the door and the plant responded by promptly stepping around his brother and trying to open the door.

"Rhianne" he stated uncertainly "the door isn't opening" Knives chuckled, a gurgle interrupting halfway through and a he spat out a small amount of blood "I barricaded the door Vash. Did you really think I'd allow you two to leave so easily?"Rhianne sighed and reached for the button, laying her palm against it for a moment and closing her eyes. Perhaps a few seconds came to pas before the door opened with a beep and a small hiss. She motioned for Vash to step outside and stepped back to Knives, who was still on his knees in her ever-growing puddle of crimson blood. 

His chin rested against his chest; his face downcast and his eyes averted hers as she drew his chin upwards and towards her face, her fingertips tainted with the blood that trickled slowly from his quivering lips. "Knives" she said gently "look at me" yet his eyes, shining with tears, refused to meet hers. Her thumb, soft as the petal of a rose at midnight, traced his jaw slowly, feeling the muscles beneath his paling skin twitching at the pain from the wound she had inflicted upon him. Her nails glided softly against the shuddering skin of his face, feeling the muscles moving and twitching beneath the thin layer of his skin which now bordered upon the shade of a clean night's snowfall. His eyes refused to meet hers; though her aqua pools sought fervently to create a bridge twixt them; a link with which to commence, perhaps to ease her own pain. Yet when she caught a glimpse of his eyes, a flash so quickly averted that the polar ice seemed silver beneath the light, it chilled her to the core; as though she stood upon one of the icy polar planes his eyes mirrored so perfectly and not in the warm, albeit rather hot corridor that smelt of drying blood and sand. The coldness in his eyes was near unbearable, his indifference to the woman before him stung like a blade of ice digging into the soft flesh of her heart. She was chilled by his discomfort, his anger, his hatred for them, and, above all else, she was terrified of Knives' fear. 

She could sense it; it hung about him like a mist or cloud of too-strong perfume. And it stunk. His fear was a putrid stench, even when not available to her sense of smell, she could smell it. Not by means of her nose, though it sat no more than five inches from his face; the smell blossomed like a rotting flower in her mind; and, even though she had never smelt such pure terror throughout the length of her life, she still could smell it; a scent triggered by her brain that made her insides quiver. He was afraid of her, she realized. And she was taken aback for a moment, stunned by the realization that this man, who, perhaps, had never felt fear before in his life, was afraid of her. She knew this was a thing to marvel at; to hold dear to her when her actions caught up with her and he unleashed his undaunted fury upon her: that Knives had been afraid of her. She knew that this would only last, perhaps, until the end of the day; before fear sunk quietly away and an even greater foe crept into his mind, one that opposed a much greater challenge to her than it's predecessor: rage. Even now she could feel it building; the white-hot rage burning at the back of his mind, licking at his nerves and making him hate her. This, this emotion she feared more than fear itself. She could overcome fear, use it to better her situation. And, she knew, so could Knives. But for now she was content to wallow in the occasion that fate had dealt her: Knives was afraid of her. He had never been afraid of her before, and, she knew, would never be afraid of her again. Or at least, she mused, not this blind terrified state in which he sat now. He had been mildly afraid of her since he had met her, she realized. Though it was not at her that his fears were directed, though they were associated with her. Knives was afraid of himself; afraid that his feelings-that he could not deny even from himself anymore- would hinder his genocide plans. He knew that both she and Vash disagreed with his beliefs, and feared that their combined influences would eventually halt his plans. This was why he did not want them to leave; for Rhianne had already seen too much, perhaps already become too attached to his planet to allow him to create his Eden for her. 

"Are you that afraid of me, Knives?" she asked quietly, finally forcing his eyes to meet with hers as she spoke "that afraid that you try to lock me up in here, try to keep me away from the outside world because you know I disagree with your beliefs, and wish to make sure you never succeed? The great conqueror Napoleon Bonaparte once said 'The people to fear are not those who disagree with you, but those who disagree with you and are too cowardly to let you know.' Vash and I have both made our opinions clear, so why do you still fear us?"

Knives' pale, pain-stricken face twisted into a scowl "I fear no one" he snarled at her. 

"Then maybe it's time you did" she stated quietly, nodding in the direction of the still-bleeding wound. Knives remained silent, his eyes tearing away from hers and staring at the puddle of blood still creeping slowly along the floor. 

"…Because I only chose not to kill you Knives" Rhianne finished, pulling his lips to hers. The flesh tasted brittle and metallic, coarse due to the drying blood. Hers were soft against it; like rubbing silk against sandpaper. It was a movement as quick as lightning, her lips lingered upon his for perhaps a second before she tore herself away before Knives fell to the floor, unconscious. She stood slowly, steadying herself against the wall with both hands, trying to fight off the urge to imitate the blonde man behind her and fall to the floor and sleep until she regained her strength. She inched steadily along the wall; the door, which was no more than a foot away, seemed incomprehensibly far away. But she persevered, and her hand fell heavily against the button, and the door opened with a beep and a hiss; and Rhianne tumbled out into the sand at Vash's feet. 

She stood up unsteadily before him as he bombarded her with questions, smiling a little. She stated in a near-laughing tone; one that was filled with heaviness due to fatigue and the smile that lingered upon her lips as she fell heavily to the ground, unconscious. 


	38. Rhianne's Dreams

Disclaimer: Trigun….I want it

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Rhianne Dreams…

A/N: My chapters were all messed up so I had to delete my story and re-load everything. That involved re-saving every one of my chapters, then saving them as HTML, then uploading them then re-putting my story back together! It was the most redundant thing I have probably ever done. _But I lost my reviews!! _It has made me so sad to lose my near-200 reviews. So review lost and make me happy again!! 

The twin suns beat down ferociously upon the broom-haired man who stood upon the sand next to his brother's ship. He leaned against the weather-beaten hull, trying in vain to stay out of the sunlight as much as possible while staying close to the door. He stared up at the sky through his tinted sunglasses, his arms crossed across his expansive chest. He wasn't comfortable with this; not one bit. He didn't like having Rhianne and Knives in that ship alone together, for he wasn't sure who would exit triumphant. As much as he hated to admit it, he half-expected his twin to struggle out of the ship, blood on his hands and a smile on his face; ranting and raving about how he dealt with that meddlesome bitch in the only way he could. Vash feared that outcome with an empty fear; for he knew not how he would deal with that outcome. He bet very little on the chestnut-haired plant who has appeared so suddenly on the scene. She obviously held more sway over his brother than he did, but he doubted that she could make it out of a confrontation with Knives in one piece. 

And so he was pleasantly surprised when she stumbled exhaustedly from the doorway, sweat pouring down her brow, her half-lidded eyes sporting a half-glazed look that reminded him, in a sickening fashion, of the waxy glaze that covered the donuts he ate so frequently. Her lips were coated in a thin film of blood, and for a moment Vash worried that she might have been wounded herself; then he realized that it wasn't her own blood that coated her lips, but that of his brother. _She kissed him…_ he thought as he darted forward and before her as she landed at his feet in a small bedraggled heap. He tried to remain silent as she rose unsteadily to her feet and shrugged off his offer of helping her stand steady with a strange half-lit smile donning her face; but his curiosity got the best of him and the words tumbled unchecked and frantic as a child on Christmas morning. 

"Rhianne are you alright?" was the first question, falling from his lips in a large singular word "how is Knives?" was the second, still met with silence "will he be alright? Why is there blood on your lips? Did you kiss him? Why? Did he shoot you? What's wrong with you? Why aren't you talking? Rhianne, can you hear me?" but the female plant only responded with silence; her only movement when her eyes rolled sickeningly back into her head and her body lurched forward heavily into his arms. For the first minute Vash was unsure of what to do with the limp body in his arms, the weight against him was unnerving and it was difficult to think without pain gripping his thread of thought and knotting it so tightly that he could barely unknot it enough to sit her gently upon the ground. 

"Rhianne…." He whispered solemnly, cradling the back of her head with his hand. As he straightened her torso over the sandy ground, examining her for any wounds Knives might have inflicted. His head moved along within close proximity to her body, listening carefully for any sign of trouble breathing, closely examining any of the small splatters of blood to make sure they were of Knives' blood and not of hers, and so on and so forth as he went on examining her. He moved slowly from her toes to her head, searching for the reason behind her sudden collapse. His ear moved slowly to her bloodstained lips, the red liquid dry and cracking, covering her pink lips like shredded red velvet wrapped over the blushing side of a peach. 

"…please be alright" he whispered, grazing his lips over hers. The metallic taste of blood was familiar to him; like a near-forgotten memory that came splashing to the surface of his lake of memories. He pulled quickly away; unnerved by the taste still lingering on his lips, but even more so by the image that flashed briefly in his mind: that of a young man with eyes of the deepest mauve and hair the same color as his twin, standing and smiling before a backdrop of emerald trees. It flashed briefly in his mind like a bolt of lightning, there one moment and then gone the next. He sat back from her, panting and clutching his chest, trying to slow the frantic beating of his heart. What had just happened? How had that alien image appeared and disappeared so suddenly in his mind without leaving a trace? Mental imagery was like leaving a fingerprint in someone's mind; it contained a signature that enabled the trained mind to decipher it and track it back to its master. Yet this one held no signature, no imprint by which he could know from whom it came; it was like a hand without fingerprints. But although it bore no traditional mental markings, the emotions sewn into the picture lingered and clouded around the image like a lingering breeze of perfume from an attractive woman walking by. 

__

Corrin… 

For a moment the word bubbled to the surface of the churning waves of his mind, staying there only for a moment then popping beneath the waves of thought crashing down upon it as he tried to figure out where this voice originated. Corrin…that must be the name of the man in the image, Vash concluded, feeling quite brilliant. 

__

CORRIN!!!

A shrieking voice erupted in his mind; bright and fierce as the molten lava thrown from the mouth of a volcano. It echoed for a moment, like a cry piercing the night, then slowly being enveloped by that same inky blackness from whence it came. As it echoed, filling the blackness that accompanied it with a heart-wrenching sob, Vash realized whose heart and soul poured worth in her words: it was Rhianne's voice that cried out to some unseen figure. A pang of pity washed over him like a wave, filling his body and soul until his eyes leaked salty tears for her and the pain she endured. He had burdened enough pain in his lifetime to know the sound of grief when it came to his ears. He wrapped his arms around her, encircling her as he lifted her from the ground. He held her close for a while, simply listening to the sound of her breathing and awaiting the next cry, wincing as though it pained him when the sound echoed throughout his mind; the shriek of pure, unrelenting pain that ate at her mind like a savage animal. He held her close to him in a vain attempt to smother the cries ringing inside his head, but was rewarded instead with images instead of noise; still-pictures that flew by at light speed. 

One was of a group of people, standing and smiling upon a small grassy hill; each wearing Seeds standard issue uniforms. Four men stood grouped closely together, their arms slung drunkenly around each other's shoulders, cups of sake of beer in most hands. Their faces held the shiny drunken smile of a man having a good time with his friends, and they all appeared to be laughing about something Vash couldn't see. There were three women, a blonde with amber flecked-eyes who stood a good foot taller than the chestnut-haired girl who looked of no more than twelve, her hair gathered in two small buns at the side of her head with chopsticks and sporting a large Band-Aid on her cheek. Next to her, holding her hand, stood a boy who looked to be also of her age, a wheat-haired lad with mauve gems for eyes and the purest smile the former outlaw had seen in a long time. Petals floated lazily through the air and the sky was clear and blue against the grass. Everything looked beautiful and pure.

The next image, however, was the complete opposite. Vash could feel the sorrow that hemmed it like a black lace border as it passed through his mind; and as it registered, a shiver ran through him at what he saw: a small carrier ship floating in space as the Seeds ship left it behind. A small porthole was the only feature of the lonely ship, a three foot- by three-foot opening from which peered the sorrowful face of a plant. Her face looked gaunt and skeletal, he frail skin clinging to her bones so tightly that it was taut like leather against the curve of her cheeks. Her fingers scraped weakly against the bulb behind the windowpane. And yet her thin purpling lips curved into a smile as she floated away. _I love you, my darling children; please be strong…_ came a weak mental message; the voice of the plant as gentle as a rose petal; so soft and fragile that tears pricked the corners of his eyes as the image shifted to two children of no more than thirteen watched through a large window the plant in the ship as she was slowly left behind, tears cascading down their flushed faces and clutching at the window with frantic fingers; mouths open in shock and fear as the carrier ship began to recede in size before their eyes. 

"Mother" the girl, obviously the older of the two, as her face had already begun to mature into its adult state "please don't leave us; I love you so much…you can't leave Corrin and me!" Yet no response came to the girl's mind nor ears, for at that very moment the little carrier ship that had occupied their eyes as prominently as sun in the noonday sky, was consumed in a fiery ball of light. The ship seemed to expand, then crumple in on itself like a ball of paper in a child's angered fist. Then a band of light tore through the thick metal exterior as easily as a hot knife through butter and nearly as white, ringed by a halo of flames, the light seemed to boil over and bubble up in the center and expand, covering the little ship in fire and light that blazed in the shiny tear-laden eyes of the children watching the terrible spectacle. The girl threw herself upon the pane, shaking violently beneath the sobs that rocked her entire body as she crashed against it "No mother! No!" She sobbed, dropping to the floor in a heap and allowing a cry of despair escape her lips. "Mother…" was all her lips could utter before she was overcome once again by a fit of uncontrollable sobs that racked her entire body and she rose unsteadily to her feet, swaying for a moment before throwing her shoulder again to the window. "This isn't happening….this isn't happening….._Mother_!!!" She cried, collapsing against the pane and watching as their ship drifted slowly away from what had once been a proud and productive plant angel. Her eyes closed as she became aware of a pair of arms wrapping themselves around her and holding her close. The scent that drifted to her as she leaned against those arms was like heaven, smelling of feathers and grass and fruits and of _life_. 

"My brother…" she sobbed, burying her face into the folds of his shirt and soaking them with her tears. She felt him run his hand over her hair, smoothing her tangled locks with his hand and soothing her torn heart with his scent. She turned her head and watched as the debris receded in size, becoming smaller and smaller as they drifted on in search for their planet; the planet their mother had only dreamt of, and now would never see. Her hands clutched tightly at his shirt and she nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder "I love you, dear brother, don't ever leave me"

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her reassuringly, the silent tears he shed for his late mother falling onto her hair and making it sparkle in the light and he smiled into it "I won't Rhianne; you'll always have me here"

Tears flowed unchecked down Vash's cheeks as the image faded away and into blackness. The image of the Seeds ship exploding as it entered the atmosphere of the planet swam to the surface of his mind, and he remembered the pain the had tore his heart in two as he had watched it-and Rem- disappear from his life forever. He had thought that the worst pain imaginable; having to lose someone as close to him as that, someone who had raised him from birth with love and care. But she was not his mother; he had never known his birth mother. And, as such, had never endured the pain of losing her. Yet Rhianne had. She had watched, unable to change anything, from the Seeds ship as her dying mother drew her last shuddering breath before allowing herself to die and explode, saving the crew and her children. He had never fathomed pain such as this could be possible to experience; had never toyed with the notion that pain that ripped your heart to tatters could be possible to cope with and to feel, and yet it was. And she had endured it, he sighed, gazing down at her face and drawing her face up to his. His lips grazed her forehead in a tender kiss of grief for the only woman of his kind, and was overtaken again by a memory as vivid and terrible as its predecessor. 

A fully-grown Rhianne stood in what appeared be a living room. The walls were a pale pink, sponged on over a pearly white. The furniture, a couch and loveseat set, were striking against the pallor of the walls, as they were leather of the darkest black. Metal side tables adorned the sides of both pieces of furniture, and three people sat upon them, watching an extremely large television set. His eyes wandered momentarily to the people sitting on the furniture, a woman and two children clutching each other tightly and weeping uncontrollably, but he felt his eye being drawn to the television set not for it's size, but for the images being shown on it. Carcasses littered the screen in a grotesque sprawling of limbs and hair, guns lay atop the blood-splattered metal floor some of them with disconnected fingers still gripping the trigger; a few of which still twitched and continued to spasm. Rhianne clasped her hands over her mouth as tears fell down her face like saltine waterfalls as an image replaced the one on the screen: a large ship floating amongst several others similar to it. A male announcer's voice cut through the silence of the scene, his voice serious and tear-choked _"At precisely 3:58pm today, the Carpathia III, a carrier ship from the Setsu Military erupted into flames without warning. Many suspect treachery amongst the ranks, and are currently investigating the situation…"_

As the announcer went on to talk of other things concerning the war, the blonde woman on the couch let out a wail and collapsed backwards as the children began to cry with more gusto than before. Rhianne simply stood there, her hands clasped over her mouth, tears running down her cheeks. Still, motionless, she stayed silent for a moment before dropping to her knees, her fingers winding themselves in the threads of the carpet before she threw back her head and cried out the name that would ring for years to come in Vash's mind; echoing in his ears as he awoke in a cold sweat in the dark of the night.

"Corrin!!"

He felt his voice echo her cry, moved by the power of her love for her brother and the power of her grief as she mourned for his lost life. He turned his face to the sky, sand sticking to his tears and reminding him of his sense of reality. He drew her close again, simply wanting to hold her and make her pain subside. Yet the plant knew he could not; that this was a pain that would travel with her until the day she died, and no one would ever be able to heal the wound left by her brother's death. He looked down at the woman he held in his lap; with whom he had shared memories of pain and suffering and, more importantly, of love. She still knew how to love, he reminded himself. Knowing this, Vash stood with her in his arms, and walked over a dune into the horizon, and out into the harsh desert that knew no love.


	39. The Typhoon Thinks

Disclaimer: *bribes someone to give her Trigun?*

Chapter Thirty-Nine: the Typhoon Thinks…

A/N: A short chapter of Vash thinking as he walks along with Rhianne in his arms through the desert.

_Lest anyone should suppose that I have led an easy life, with days willed with laughter and the love of my brethren, enjoying my never-ending life to the fullest enjoying it with the humans, the creatures my people are meant to protect, then I should say that my life was never an easy thing, for all the good it did me. I should say that my days were spent in misery and mire and that I wallowed in my own pool of self-pity that it's quite a wonder I never learned to swim. Although I never speak of the hardships I have endured at the hands of my brother, they stay with me always; embedded into me physically by way of the scars that mar the length of my body and the metal plates and strips that hold my innards where they belong. Mentally, the scars are not as visible, yet they sting more so than any of my wounds have ever pained me. 'Tis a terrible thing, to lose the love of your brother for over a century. My brother has killed in my name, and forced me to kill, betraying the vow that I took long ago on the grassy fields of the Seeds ship chamber. Countless have died because of me by his hand, leading me along on strings like a puppeteer leads his dolls; the dolls know what they do until 'tis done. And I find it to be the same with my brother and I; he sets his traps cunningly, and each time I stumble willingly into them, as naïve as a newborn babe in my pacifistic haze. I see nothing wrong with my way, in Rem's way. Certainly, not one single creature in existence deserves to die. Yet he cannot see that, and has made attempts time and time again to disprove my theory. Yet I know in my heart what is true, and find it a terrible shame Knives cannot see the light of Rem's way. _

The woman, this chestnut-haired angel that has fallen to our God-forsaken planet, is perhaps the only one who has ever seen my brother at his weakest. I never thought it possible; my brother in love. 'Twas never a thing to be fathomed in my mind, a thought as quickly dismissed as conjured. And yet I find myself proven wrong. The emotions he feels for her have multiplied tenfold since the moment he met her, that much is blatantly obvious. He simply cannot act on those emotions, trying in vain to dismiss his feelings as weakness and manipulation. Perhaps my brother cannot grasp that it isn't Rhianne who manipulates him, but that it is own heart that works against him in ways he cannot control. 

I gaze down at her face, lit by the glow of the twin suns, her hair wafts around it like a halo. Truly, she is one of my kind; for we are blessed with the beauty of angels. I can fathom how simple it was for Knives to lose his stony heart to her, with a face such as this and a manner such as hers. Intertwined within her are the ribbons both of confidence and of meekness. She is a strong-willed woman, of that there is no doubt, yet she is afraid of the consequences of her actions; a thing she did while under the dark cloud of mourning for her brother, and thusly feels the need to be protected and shielded from reality. I know of this thing she did, her mind dwelling only of the death of her brother and naught else, as she signed her name on the paper in flowing script. The procedure that will forever change her life and that of those around her. She would have altered the fate of both her planet and it's satellite had she opted to stay on her world. Yet she fled in fear of her actions and the consequences that they would bring crashing down upon her. 

She was a brave woman to do what she did. Albeit as foolish as she was brave.

There is a deepening sense of admiration that I feel for this woman that is blossoming inside of me like a flower, growing larger and more colorful and vibrant as she displays the angles and shades of her personality; this woman is a fascinating creature that I know will keep my brother fascinated for the rest of time should he allow her to do so. For there is so much more to her than meets the eye; layers of her personality and soul are pulled back, from her core; like unwrapping a precious gem swathed in scarves of silk and lace, each new layer a beauty to behold and a marvel to the eye. 

Yet my brother is precisely what Rhianne is not. Like night to her day or ice to her flame, they are different yet so the same. Perhaps, it occurs to me, that's why they have been drawn together in a fashion such as this; on such a level that they manage to despise and yet adore one another at the same moment. Yet I feel that, despite their many quarrels, they truly love each other. Though their circumstances differ from mine in many ways, their blossoming love reminds me of Meryl and I when we first admitted our feelings for one another. We quarreled and she left at times to clear her head, yet she always returned to me. I consider myself a fortunate man to have received a gift such as her in my life. And I pray that Knives will come to understand his good fortune in receiving a beautiful flower like Rhianne to blossom in his garden of life. 

For we are all like flowers, blossoming in our own unique beauty beneath the sun, unfurling our beautiful petals as we grow more colorful and vibrant with life. Yet as we grow, petals begin to wilt and fall as we lose our childish demeanor and fresh petals blossom anew as we mature into the people we hope to become. Every one is unique, no one quite like the other in the colorful array of their personality. We all grow beneath the sun together, growing and dying with each other, and each of us striving to catch the elusive mayfly that is love.


	40. He Awakens

Disclaimer: 40 times I've had to say this: I do not own Trigun.

Chapter Forty: He Arises 

A/N: Well here I am again, asking you all to review. You see, I know that people say that you shouldn't write simply for reviews (and I don't!) But they ARE very encouraging and would shorten the time between updates significantly. I want to thank all of you who have reviewed, and encourage those of you that haven't to please R&R!! Thanks a mil! LL

His pulse pounded in his head, his blood coursed swiftly through his veins, and he dimly became aware of the light shining in his eyes. He moved an arm heavily over his eyes in an attempt to shield himself from the light, groaning in annoyance at being brought out of his deep slumber at such a trivial thing as this. His clenched his eyes firmly shut, trying in vain to go back to sleep. Yet he could not, be it the dry slimy texture in his mouth, or the throbbing at his temples, Knives' body simply refused to sleep again. Sighing heavily and grumbling incomprehensibly through his dry mouth about the unfairness of such things, he tumbled onto his stomach and lay there for a moment, feeling completely and utterly exhausted. He folded his arms beneath his face and buried it into his arms, smelling the fabric and his own perspiration and something else he didn't recognize for a moment. Then the metallic scent of dried blood reached his nostrils, and his eyes flew open with a start as the events previous to his nap crashed down upon him. He had been shot; Rhianne had shot him and he had bled. He had bled and he had thought he would die. And yet here he was. Why, he wondered as he brought himself to his knees, bracing his weight on his open palms upon the floor as one hand explored his gut, searching for the wound that would lead to his death. 

Yet he found nothing. 

He felt the torn fabric that the bullet had torn through, he felt the blood that clotted the fabric and clung to his skin, yet could feel no wound from where the blood had poured. He felt a slight bump, a scar, where the wound had once been, but naught more. He licked his lips in apprehension, and felt the blood upon them. It tasted brittle and metallic, stinging his tongue. Yet another flavor clung to his lips, that of the woman who had dealt him his wound; and he remembered the feeling of her lips pressed against his as he slumped forward into her arms as she caught him. He remembered the small jolt that had rocked through him at her touch and her mental words as she tore herself away from him and he slipped into the darkness of sleep:

_I'm sorry it had to be this way Knives…_

The words were tainted with pain and sadness, remorse and guilt. So much so that a sob escaped Knives' lips as he hauled himself heavily to his feet. He bit his lip ferociously, angered by that pitiful sound coming from his own mouth. He lurched heavily against the wall, the weight of his body seemingly too much for his legs to handle. He shuddered as he fell against it, his shoulder hitting the metal hard as his hands grappled for something to hold him up, yet he felt nothing. There were no cords running helter-skelter down the wall like in the plants he had seen, waiting to be ripped out of their place and torn apart to ensure the malfunctioning of his sisters. He rolled onto his back against the wall, resting his head against the cool metal wall. 

He sighed and closed his eyes, contemplating his options. He could stay here and leave them to roam his planet however they pleased, or he could go after them and give that bitch what she deserved. His mind weighed the two options as he closed his eyes and felt the sunlight bathe him in warmth. He shook his head in frustration, opening his eyes and staring sullenly at his feet with icy eyes that unwillingly brimmed with tears. The light danced in his vision and a brilliant flash of white slashed through the colors like a knife parting flesh. Drawing up a bloodstained hand to shield his eyes he saw the object that had caught the light like the current catches a flitting, dancing fish. His gun lay on the blood-splattered floor at his feet. 

He blinked at it for a moment, not quite sure that it was there at all. He yearned to reach out and touch it, to grasp it and ensure it was real. He would have thought she'd have taken it with her to ensure he caused her no more trouble. Yet, he thought wryly, she probably knew by now that he could be handful anywise, gun or no. It pleased him greatly to think this, as he very much liked having control over her. She claimed to be more powerful than he (a feat that had yet to be proven, he smiled wryly) yet he still held a grasp on her mind because she was still afraid of him and the consequences his actions might have, and he relished it. 

Relinquishing his balance on the wall, he toppled to a pile on the floor, though still smiling. Bringing himself painfully to his knees, he reached forward and grasped it beneath his fingers, feeling the cool, familiar metal beneath his fingers. His finger found the trigger, and he pushed the gun closer to himself, so that the barrel was aimed at his forehead. He closed his eyes, floating listlessly in the ocean of pain whose waves crashed down upon him again and again; closed his eyes against the incessant throbbing at his temples; closed his eyes against a reality he wished never to face. Vash had left him again, abandoning him once more. And with him had gone Rhianne, the leader of their escape, who had also left him again. He squeezed his eyes tightly, wishing to be rid of these complications and go back to living in the quiet solitude that suited him so well. Yet he knew that he could not. To live without Vash, well, that was acceptable. He had lived without his brother for years and had never found it to be a difficult thing to do. It was true that he craved his brother's presence and wished he hadn't have left him, yet he knew how irresponsible his sibling's way of thinking was, and knew that he would one day bring him into the light. Yet she was a different matter altogether. He felt as though he was being pulled in two different directions. One side of him longed for her, craved her presence and yearned for her touch. Yet the other despised her rebellious nature: that she blatantly refused to submit to his will and to follow him into Eden. 

He opened his eyes and stared down the barrel of the gun; could see the black bullet glimmering like onyx inside it's ebony casing. _All I have to do is pull the trigger…_ he thought darkly. No, it was not suicide that ebbed at the back of his mind, but killing her and putting an end to the complications that muddled his life ad his plans and rocked the very foundation of his beliefs. One bullet was all it would take, he thought murderously, still staring at the gun before his eyes. All he had to do was point the gun between those damnably familiar aqua eyes of hers and pull the trigger. It was that simple….wasn't it? He had already been faced with that choice before, yet had backed down away from the chance like a coward. _Like Vash…_ he thought, and spat upon the floor in spite of himself, the clear liquid tainted lightly crimson as it hit the floor. 

He growled as he saw the blood as it shimmered upon the floor, like crimson-tainted liquid crystal. That was his blood there, and she had dared to spill it. Who was she to think-to _assume_- that she could spill Millions Knives' blood and not suffer the consequences, he demanded aloud as he jerked painfully again to his feet. He clutched the colt tightly in his hand, steadying himself on his unsure feet as the blood rushed to his feet, leaving him dizzier and more unstable on his feet than before, small black dots danced in his vision as he extended his free hand out before him to try and balance himself out, taking a bolt step forward and nearly pitching to the spinning floor as he did so. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, thinking that he was Millions Knives, the Future Eradicator of Mankind, and he would not be stopped simply by a dizzy spell; he would overcome and he would conquer. 

"I will get her" he sneered to the empty air as he staggered again forward "I will get her and I will have my way with her and I will make that little bitch pay for humiliating me so. She is no better than them, those worthless pieces of filth that serve only to amuse me until I have no use for them anymore. That is all she is to me: a toy. I will use her as I see fit and despose of her when the time comes."

Yes, supposed a small voice at the back of his mind, that sounded like a very logical idea; to use her and abuse her and then dispose of her like the trash she was. Yet there was a flaw in his plan; in his plan that seemed so obvious and so foolproof and so inexplicably simplistic, and it was this: that he could deny it all he wanted; swear upon his kin, living and dead a thousand times over, insist until his dying day or the day that his little planet finally got too close to it's suns and fried like an egg on a hot sidewalk, but he loved her. But, reasoned his larger voice- the dominant voice that he followed in all his decisions and trusted more than the small weak voice that pleaded against most of what he did- love was for the weak, and he was by no stretch of the imagination weak. No, he was a plant and a superior being and would not dabble in such simple humanistic things such as 'love'. He was bigger than that, better than that and would not be drawn down to the same level as them; the ones he detested to the core of his being. 

Yet, try as he might, he still struggled with his emotions. 

"I will get to her and I will kill her and that will be the end of it" he stated ferociously as his fist pounded heavily against the lit panel, and the door slid open before him, revealing to his icy eyes the desert sands that whipped across the rolling, never-ending dunes. "Yes, that is what I will do. I will shoot her between those eyes that look damnably like his and I will take care of my meddlesome brother and that will be the end of all my problems and I will come back here and I will be alone finally alone yes alone…" he babbled, jumbling the words and cutting them short with fits of laughter that echoed out into the hot desert air. He smiled, ignoring the sand that whipped against him and the wind that howled in his ears, threatening to storm. 

"…and I will be alone" he said in a dark, final tone before heading off over the dunes, leaving behind him the thought that gnawed like a hungry animal at his mind:

Could he truly be happy being alone?

Or more specifically:

Could he truly be happy without her?


	41. From Atop the Rock

Disclaimer: Midlife crisis disclaimer: I'm broke, up to here in debt, and don't own Trigun

Chapter Forty-One: From Atop the Rock

__

Do you care if I don't know what to say 

Will you sleep tonight, or will you think of me 

Will I shake this off, pretend its all okay 

That there's someone out there who feels just like me 

There is 

__

"There Is"- Boxcar Racer

The fire crackled gently in her tired eyes, dancing and jumping with vigor and life. Heavy lids closed once, twice, blocking out the leaping, crackling fire and trying to pull her back into the darkness of sleep. Nuzzling her tired eyes against her crossed arms, Rhianne groaned quietly, knowing that she could not sleep, no matter how much her body pleaded with her. Her right eye creaked open and roamed over to Vash's sleeping, sitting form, chin leaning against his chest and snoring lightly. She smiled, pulling the blanket he had inevitably placed over her tighter to her body; it was cold out here in the desert. Glancing over at Vash again, she watched as he breathed, each exhalation a small cloud of vapor. Squinting at him, she saw that the noticeable chill in the air did not disturb his slumber, and was rather glad of it. Feeling indulgent, she plunger her head beneath the blanket, risking sleep for warmth. She was grateful for the circle of tall rocks surrounding their small camp, large ungainly towers of stone protruding from the sandy ground that protected them from the wind. Lying still, she listened to it whistle as it passed through the narrow cracks between the rocks, shuddering at how violent it sounded. 

Reluctantly she pulled her head out of her cocoon of warmth and gazed gratefully at Vash. His hair had fallen over in his sleep and, half-up half-down, looked so adorable that her lips cracked apart in a smile that courted a small giggle. Sitting up, she shivered at the cold of the night and threw the blanket around her shoulders and shuffled over to Vash, who was sitting opposite her, across the bustling fire. Plopping down heavily next to him, she turned her eyes to the fire, feeling the heat surround her she smiled. This was nice; to be sitting here next to someone like her. Even though they had lived billions of miles apart their whole lives, she felt a connection with him- and Knives- that she had only felt with one other person, her brother. Having never met Aeris and Andan, and only recently encountering this set of twins, she had never been able to judge if this feeling of familiarity was because of a bond by blood or of by race. Yet, she smiled at Vash, she was with her kind now, and that flower of comfort blossomed ever the more fully in her heart. 

Still smiling, she stood and shed her blanket, ignoring the shivers creeping up her spine and the gooseflesh breaking out over her skin she folded the blanket around Vash, who stirred lightly in his sleep, mumbling something about extra glaze and licked his lips hungrily. A small chuckle at his antics escaped her lips before she turned away and strode, albeit rather sleepily over to one of the massive rocks standing fiercely against the forces of the wind. Standing in it's shadow, cast by the eerily crimson-tinted moons, she marveled at the magnificent work of nature, her eyes taking in the monument of sandstone, a smile of appreciation for the sheer beauty of it as flecks of quartz caught the firelight and blazed with a captured light of their own. Placing a boot against the stone she braced herself against it before pushing herself up and grasping onto a jutting ledge of the wall, hauling herself painstakingly atop of it. She gazed scornfully up at the climb ahead, but rose to her feet and grasped another set of grooves in the rock, wedging her toes into the rock and straining her fingers to maintain their hold on the rock above her. One foot, then the other, painstakingly she moved ever so slowly up the face of the rock, the winds whipping around her and threatening to push her from her from the rock she clung to so steadfastly, sending her to plummet to the ground far below. She shuddered, looking at the sandy desert floor below her feet, which rested precariously close to slipping off the rock; yet she held fast and continued her ascent of the rock. 

It seemed like an eternity before her hand lay flat against the surface of the rock, she slammed the other down and hauled herself quickly up and lay there for a moment, eyes closed, marveling at the effort it had taken simply to ascend; and not wanting to think about the decent right now. Her muscled ached with the strain of her climb, yet she ignored them and rose to her feet, and was nearly knocked back off them by the force of the wind. She laughed, a small sound that lingered for a moment on her lips before being torn away by the ravenous wind, like a wolf stealing the meat of another it ripped the laugh away so violently from her mouth that she barely had time to catch it's sound before it was engulfed by the wind's ferocious appetite. 

Standing proved to be too much against the force of the wind, and she lay down upon her stomach for fear of being blown right off her rocky perch high above the ground. Her hands clung to the rock, still fearing being torn away from it like a weightless leaf in the might of the wind. Sighing, she leaned her cheek against the cool rock and watched the sand blow over the horizon. A long time she lay there, watching the stars dance in the sky until the wind died down and the sand along the horizon glowed a dull gold with the unbridled sunlight readying to spill over and onto the world. It was a beautiful sight: the golden stars contrasting with the white gold of the sizzling morning sand brought a smile to her lips as her eyelids fell heavily over her eyes that glowed with the unshed light of the morn. All was calm, the wind a small breeze that barely stirred the quartz-flecked sand, and the little planet seemed, to her, to be in a state of quiet preparation, as though gathering it's last bit of strength from the night and readying itself for the day ahead. With her eyes closed Rhianne listened to the sounds of the ending night; the wind picking up the sand and dragging it over the dune-doted desert, Vash's quiet snoring from below her, and the silence that lingered between them, filled with the presence of the dawn waiting to break free, like a gold-winged bird with rainbow tail feathers waiting to break free from its silver-and-ebony cage that is the night, ready to shower her little world with light and color again. 

Yet one thing seemed to care naught for the day or the night or the beautiful transition melding the two, she found, as a roar reached her ears. Snapping her head up she caught a fleeting glance of a large creature rear out of the ground, spraying sand and rock out onto her perfect horizon with an howl unlike any she had ever heard amongst natural creatures. In the moment her eyes caught it before it plunged back into the ground with another spray of sand and rock, she saw a massive worm-like creature covered in large protective scales with tentacles on wither side of their faces like massive mustaches that spun and coiled around their massive jowls that snapped open and closed against the wind with a sound like brittle bones snapping in half, a sound that made her cringe at the spectacle before her as two others repeated the performance and dove in and out of the ground like some mutated species of fish jumping from a dry ocean of sand. These things disturbed her; they were giants in a world that seemed too small for creatures of their bulk and size, and she watched them for a long time as they dove in and out of their sandy ocean for purposes she knew not, fascinated by their movements and their very existence on a planet as harsh as this, for she would not have fathomed that creatures of this size would flourish on a desert planet. She had read great lengths about the place the humans called Earth, of its vast oceans and deadly deserts, and knew that in climates such as these the smallest creature was oftentimes the most deadly. But it seemed not to be so on this befuddled little planet revolving around two suns and five moons she concluded, closing her eyes again and listening to the far-off roars as they synchronized themselves in with the orchestra of the morn, dozing off into a quiet sleep by the melodious sounds. 

Yet there was no sounds to greet her ears as she awakened. Silence clogged her ears and pressed down heavily upon her, and she wondered why she had awoken to such an eerie silence as this. She lay for a moment, her eyes still closed, straining for a sound to meet her eager ears. Yet nothing moved. It seemed that someone had choked off the wind, killed the SandWorms, and even cut off Vash's rhythmic snoring so that she was surrounded by a lake of silence whose waves lapped in her ears. No matter how hard she listened, to what extent she strained her restless ears, she heard naught but her own breath. 

Someone once told her that, before a storm, nature went silence in the anticipation of it. She had never thought this to be true; that it was just a myth told from long ago about the premonitions animals had and their sensitivity to a change in nature. Dismissing it until this day, she had thought it superstitious nonsense. But, she thought as her eyes opened and moved to the dead horizon seemingly not of their own accord, she now knew herself to be mistaken. For as her eyes met with the ever-glowing horizon, a globe of light billowed up like a bubble on the surface of the sandy ocean out of which a lone SandWorm heaved itself out of the sand one final time, and was engulfed in the blinding light. A high cry pierced the thick heavy morning air, pitched so high no human or plant could reach and so filled with pain that it spilled into her ears and sloshed down into her heart, filling her with pity for the animal. She watched as she light shone, brilliantly white that it seemed blue, and realized what it was. 

"Knives" she gasped, and then swiftly turned and hurtled herself over the sheer drop of the rock to the ground below. 

A/N: I'm not sure why I put that song at the beginning; it was what I listened to while writing this and seemed to fit well with the chapter. This might become a common thing, so let me know what you think, okay? LL


	42. Knives' Angel

Disclaimer: *eats her pizza but wishes she had Trigun instead*

Chapter Forty-Two: Knives' Angel 

**_New Topeka Weekly Gazette Col . Yr 184 AE. _**

**More Than We Expected??**

Ever since we humans left our home planet we have depended on Plants to aid us until we can be fully settled upon out new homes. Yet these large contraptions are complicated life-forms that live and breathe like you and I while they supply us with the food and the energy it takes to run our machines. So, like us, they need people who can heal them and give them more energy when it runs low. 

March 14th Earth-year 2687, Doctor Marv Collins PHD created the perfect solution to the plant-energy crisis: Plant-Human hybrids. Their predecessors, entrapped in plant bulbs were known as 'Angels' or by their proper name 'Agellos'; so it was only fitting that the new race of Plants be named 'Homo-Agell' (or 'Human Angel' to the public) due to their humanoid appearance. Yet there were secrets these fascinating beings possessed that even they didn't know they possessed: Angel Arms, the feathered keys to the Plants whose destructive energy beams could wipe out entire cities, lock into place deep in the underbellies of the Plants and feed them their own energy; and Angel Blades, the defense mechanism hidden beneath their skin, consisting of rock hard shards of glass that protrude from the skin and embed themselves in the flash of their attackers. They are endowed with near-immortal life and heightened senses far superior to those of Man. Dr Collins was quoted upon saying "they are the next step of man; we would have to evolve for millions of years to even scratch at the surface of the things I've enabled them to do" (readers note: Dr Collins passed away as a result of lung failure due to a puncture created by the Angel Blade of a two-day old Human-Angel upon whom he was testing the reaction time of the Angel Blades) 

After perfecting the Homo-Agells Humanity felt confident enough to make their venture out into the unknown, with the (willing) populace cryogenically frozen to preserve them on the long journey ahead. The plants; ever consistent in their endeavors and ever faithful to the humans who had given them life, manned the ships. And one day our sister ship, Seeds Ship No. 3, reached a hospitable planet, and was christened Paradis by the populace. Their Plants were arranged accordingly; with so many miles between plant so they could share each other's power as it seeped into the plant-ridden soil. And their two Angels settled here with us, Aeris and Andan.

Born in Seeds Lab No. 14-2 on our ship on December 22nd, After-Earth year 35, Aeris and Andan were born in the womb that we the Plant Bulb, and raised to know their purpose and to become productive and successful members of society. They became mentors for the settlers and rose above all expectations and were held on a plateau by the populace. After we were firmly settled on our planet and there was no more need for the Plant Angels to expend their power on us, the twins took to finding their own paths. Aeris, who had always been fascinated by the tropical vegetation carpeting her little planet, took to creating medicines for the needy from their juices. Andan, however, felt that he could not neglect his sisters, even though they were not needed. And so he took up Plant Engineering, and has currently saved several towns from Plant-related disasters. These were not caused by the plants themselves, but by the tropical storms that oftentimes ravaged the seaside towns, and it was on one such occasion that a Plant was badly damaged and the Angel could not control her own power and was upon the verge of exploding from within herself that Andan was summoned to fix the problem. He was travelling through a torrent of rain by plane to the site, a large seaside town called Naruay when the plane's tail was struck by lighting and it began to tumble into the sea. The three passengers aboard the plane jumped, trying to escape the craft as it nose-dived down towards the churning waters below. Yet, for two of the passengers, their efforts were in vain and they died in the dark water that night. Yet the third was not destined that night or-perhaps-ever. The few fishermen out braving the storm in order to keep their small fishing boats lashed to the dock swear that they saw them tumble, through the rain, to the ocean. Yet one did not reach the waters that night, for- as the witnesses swore- wings as bright as the lily's petals carried the third to shore, where he took to running to the Plant high upon the hill and the wings disappeared in a melt of ivory feathers. 

"It was the most wondrous thing I've ever seen; he was about to hit the water and-poof!- these huge wings popped right out of his back!" says a local fisherman and witness Lokal Mitah, who was out holding his fishing boat to the dock on the night of the incident. 

"It was amazing! I never knew Plants could fly!" exclaimed his daughter Liriel Mitah, who was out helping her father and witnessed the miracle.

Like Liriel, this was a power that no one-not even Andan himself, knew of. 

"I don't really understand it myself" he was quoted saying "one moment I was falling towards the water and the next I felt a slight pull at my shoulders and I was soaring not three feet above it! I really didn't understand what had happened until later, when someone gave me a white feather, saying it had fallen off my back."

The brave Plant agreed to undergo test trials to determine why, exactly, this power had gone untapped for nearly two hundred Colony Years; especially since the Plants had lived on an unstable planet for so long and had encountered many dangerous situations through their lives. Three months of testing were preformed before the source of the wings was discovered: when the host (a Homo-Agell) is in a life-threatening situation (in this case a fatal fall) the wings sprout from their shoulder blades as an act of self-preservation and defense) "It's very much like if you were to drop a bird from a cliff; it would open it's wings in order to save itself, and it's very much the same case for the Plants." Says Dr. Hazel Furnikan, who spearheaded the research, named Project Eagle to the public.

"No one, not even the subject, knew he was capable of something like this" she was quoted as saying at a press conference, "the wings are cartilage that emerges on an angle, turning the subject onto a horizontal plane and allowing them to cruise along on the current their swift turn as allowed them to create, and 'flap' with the simple clenching and unclenching of the shoulder blades. We also have come to surmise that they are only used in life-threatening situations, which explains why they weren't previously discovered and researched. As such they were unnamed, and have been given the official title 'Halo-Agellos' or 'Angel Wings'."

The Wings are a new step in understanding the Plants, state scholars currently researching the strange phenomenon. They could be a breakthrough in understanding these very different types of people. But the real question here is this: if these Plants aren't even really human, and aren't susceptible to normal types of extensive research, is there more to them than we know, even yet?

Rhianne remembered reading that very article in her brother's kitchen one groggy Easter morning, Vanessa putting quietly about, making coffee for Corrin and pancakes for the children. She had pointed it out to him, wondering if they, too, were capable of such feats as flying. 

"Surely" said Vanessa as she placed a squirming Adrian in his high chair and Mary Anne dug into her syrup-drenched pancakes with gusto "if they can do it, so can you. You're all of the same race, so wouldn't it be acceptable to assume that if they can do it, so can you? If it's something that has deliberately been placed into their genes, it would only make sense to place them into your as well, right?" she finishes, spooning a mouthful of banana-raspberry baby cereal into Adrian's mouth. 

"I suppose that makes sense" stated Corrin, leaning in and kissing his wife gently on her baby-food-splattered cheek "smart and beautiful, how did I ever get so lucky?" Rhianne smiled, watching them, and a small tear escaped her eye for the love she never thought she would find.

In the same fashion, now, a tear fell from her eye for her brother as she neared the ground and prayed that Vanessa had been right in her assumptions, or she could be in a great deal of pain upon her landing, she concluded; feelings of mixed anticipation and uncertainty fluttering in her stomach like brightly-colored birds. The ground approached her with increasing speed and she drew up her arms to shield her face from the rocks below and squeezed her eyes shut, fearful of the impact that she was now sure was to come.

This had been a mistake. She was not one of the plants endowed with Angel Wings; she was going to fall to the ground and probably shatter every bone in her body because of a stupid risk. If she landed on her head, as she most likely would, she would be paralyzed, her neck snapping under the impact at the very least, or, at the very worst, her skull cracking against the sandy ground and killing her instantly. Or perhaps she would be left in a state of near-consciousness; able to feel the excruciating pain as the sand blew into her open, bleeding wounds and she died here beneath this alien sky without anyone to love her.

_Knives!_

The word escaped her lips as a final plea, wishing that he were here beneath her to catch her before she met her doom here on his planet. It lingered on her lips for only a moment before being torn from her lips by the wind, rushing by at phenomenal, if not terrifying, speed. Closer and closer the ground came at her, until she could make out every speck of sand and count the flecks of quartz glinting in the early-morning shine. Terrified, she forced her to close her eyes again, not wanting them open on the moment of impact; to watch the crimson blood squirt sickeningly from her head and to hear the wet crack as her skull split down the middle on the hard earth. 

It was at this moment, so close to her demise, that she embraced oblivion. Held hands with death, accepted pain and smelt the stench of fear that reeked deep inside her nostrils, that fire erupted upon her shoulder blades and her world was enveloped by blinding white.

************************************************************************

It had been a good sleep, he had decided as he lay there groggily. A nice, good, heavy sleep the liked of which he hadn't had in the few months since Rhianne's entry into the bulb. He had dreamt of Meryl. Of Meryl and Millie and Wolfwood. He knew he shouldn't think about Wolfwood; doing so would only make him depressed like he had been before. And there had been several bouts of depression that had fallen over him after thinking about him for long periods of time, and Vash tried not to think about the dead priest. 

But never to forget. 

He refused to forget about Wolfwood, not ever. He would carry his memory to the grave and even then the priest would not fully be dead because others would remember him, too. No one is ever dead as long as they're remembered; that's what Meryl had said as she'd held his head in her lap as he'd wept over the loss of his friend. And, in time, Vash had found it to be true. Small things reminded him of the eccentric man. A cigarette laying on the side of the road; a motorcycle as it roared into town; a small child reaching up for the arms of it's mother. Vash had even found his confessional, tucked away with his things at the hotel. 

_That's why I have this confessional!!_

He remembered the words so clearly; as though it were yesterday. He could still smell the scent of tobacco and gunpowder that was like cologne to the man, always drenched in it, though not always unpleasantly so. With a sigh he remembered the stifling heat of the day, the calmness of the wind, the smell of oil from the bus and the smell of sweat from its passengers. They had saved Wolfwood's life. No; _he_ had saved his life. He had saved his life and then been responsible for taking it. Meryl had told him time and time again that it hadn't been his fault, that Wolfwood had chosen his own path from the very start and had died like an honorable man in a place that he loved, and that he would have wanted it that way. 

A tear rolled down his cheek, drenched in heat from the fire and the blanket wrapped around him. He had felt Rhianne's act of kindness through a half-sleep half-awake daze, and was grateful for it; the desert was as cold as Knives' eyes at night. His eyelids had pried themselves sleepily away from each other and watched her retreating back, smiling lopsidedly as she walked away. Then, content with his warmth, he snuggled back into his blanket and closed his weary eyes and dozed for a time; until the winds rose up between the pillars of rock and whistled so loudly in his ears that he had to stuff the sheet in them to keep from ringing with the song of the wind. So, unable to sleep, he had watched Rhianne as she scaled the rock; for it was a long task that she had taken upon herself, and Vash would take no chances in letting her fall. Under his watchful eye she had clambered to the top and lay there for a long while. Long enough that his eyes started to droop again from fatigue until he could barely keep his eyes focused on the pillar of rock upon which she lay, high above him.

Yet when the animalistic and indistinguishable cry of a Sand Worm reached his ears, his eyes shot open as though someone had shot a gun near his face. He knew that sound all too well, and knew also of the danger it carried. He jumped to his feet immediately, searching and straining his ears for the direction of the cry, and not hearing Rhianne's gasp, her voice lost through the wind howling high above. Nor did he notice her plunge from the top of the cliff, plummeting down to the ground across the fire from him, travelling so quickly that she was nearly a blur. She traveled so quickly that he could only watch in terror as she approached the ground with terrible speed and the horrifying thought only had moments to flash into his mind _she's going to die_ before he witnessed the most miraculous scene his aqua eyes had even seen: the chestnut-haired woman plummeted to the ground, and a cry escaped her lips as wings erupted from twixt her shoulder blades in an outburst of ivory and crimson as the blood poured fourth from the open, gaping wounds where the wings protruded. As they fanned out around her as she fell she seemed to level off for a moment, and he hoped that this wonderful angel would reach the ground safely. Yet it seemed not to be so, as the wings shuddered as she made to flap them by clenching her shoulders back into her back, and she resumed her vertical plummet. This wondrous sight had granted him precious moments to dash to where she fell, discarding the shroud like a snake effortlessly sheds it's skin as he ran to her and caught her heaving form in his arms. The blood poured from her wounds and feathers floated listlessly in the breezy air that he not felt not; focusing only on the angel in his arms- and that's what he now thought her to be, for none he knew could do feats such as this.

"Thank you….Vash" she smiled weakly, pushing herself away from him and standing on the ground on unsteady legs. Twice he had to push an arm in to help her stand, but she shrugged his help off in a defiant manner that left the blonde feeling rather useless. She turned, for her back, with it's wings in all their blood-splattered-ivory splendor, had been turned to him, and she now faced him and smiled a weak and tired smile. At that moment Vash saw he for what she truly, in his eyes, must be: an angel sent from Heaven itself to help guide his brother into the light. To show him the way; to show Knives of Rem's way. Never before had he seen someone so wondrous for, though bloody and disheveled, she glowed with a fierce inner light that nearly radiated from her very pores and granted her an aura of serenity and grace.

Yet it was not to last, for as quickly as her serene visage was there, it was wiped away by a look of excruciating pain that widened her eyes, caused her nostrils to flare and her mouth to hang open before a shriek escaped her parted lips and she fell to the ground, helplessly trying to claw at her back as the wings fell away from her. They seemed to peel off of her, skin and dried blood and rubbery cartilage stretching twixt the growing gap between them and her and snapping with heinous popping and snapping that made him cringe and shiver as they spilt from her like spawn, falling heavily to the ground with hollow thuds, although Vash could see that they were not hollow by the white cartilage and meager bone within, and from the substantial amounts of blood pouring both from the wings and the large raw and gaping holes left in Rhianne's skin. 

"God Vash, make it stop, please" she sobbed; her face hidden by her hands, attempting to evade the blood cascading down her back and over shoulders from getting onto her face. The blonde panicked, for he knew not what to do and, although was commonly calm in the face of danger, had been taken completely aback by this, and did not know how to deal with phenomena such as he had witnessed. 

"Please…just press the skin together" Rhianne cried, tears choking her words and making it difficult to understand her. Yet somehow he managed to discern the words and reached out, albeit somewhat hesitantly, and squeezed the open flesh together, trying mightily to ignore the shriek that escaped the female as he did as she had commanded. He hated the feel of this flesh beneath his fingers, the warm skin and muscle beneath and the blood that now coated his fingers, warm and thick with life. He refused to let go, however, for he was truly afraid that should her gnashes be left unattended, that they would continue to expand (and he had seen such things) and it would be as though she were being skinned alive. And so the gunman clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, wishing that he could close his nostrils against the stench of blood that befouled them. And there he sat. Sat and waited, holding closed the slashed of open skin caused by wondrous phenomena the likes of which he had never seen before, praying that she would be alright. 

There under the waning stars and the sunlight that grew ever-brighter over the horizon he sat and prayed that Knives' guardian angel would survive.


	43. Her Angel Without Wings

Disclaimer: I just got back from shopping; 11 consecutive hours of walking doesn't want to make me put up much of a fight. I don't own Trigun

Chapter Forty-Three: Her Angel Without Wings

A/N: This chapter is for those of you who missed dialogue.

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So here I slave inside of a broken dream  
Forever holding on to splitting seams  
So take your piece and leave me alone to die  
I don't need you to keep my faith alive 

Vertical Horizon- Shackled

"I'm sorry"

Her first words in a long while started Vash so much that he nearly relinquished his grasp on her bloodied skin in his surprise. The words were so faint that for a moment he knew not if she had spoken at all, until she repeated herself, perhaps to his silence when she had first offered her unexpected apologies. She sniffled as she said it, turning her head slightly towards him so that one tear-reddened eye gazed painfully at him.

"Rhianne" Vash smiled "what do you have to be sorry for?" She sniffled again, and Vash took notice of where the blood had run down her face, leaving white hand marks where her fingers had been, and crimson skin where they had not protected the porcelain of her composure. "What I did was rash and stupid and I'm sorry to be putting you through all this. If you can ever forgive me I will be a lucky woman; and if you cannot, then I wholly understand your reasons and will not mind if you should return to Knives" At this the blonde nearly laughed

"Return to Knives? What makes you think I would ever do that?"

The brunette blinked for a moment, as though she could not comprehend his words "why would you not? He is your brother, and of your blood" 

"What difference does that make? I would rather Knives left me alone for the rest of my life, so I could be happy with Meryl." 

"Meryl?" Rhianne asked, flinching as Vash removed his hands from her wounds, declaring them healed, which they were. The blood had clotted and there was a thin layer of fresh skin sitting over it like a blanket atop crimson petals. "My wife" Vash replied, a smile lighting his lips as he thought of her. She had been gone nearly a month when he had met Rhianne, and probably wouldn't even be home by now. He hoped she hadn't arrived home; he couldn't bear to think of her entering their little house, happy to see him, and he so far away from her and her big gray eyes that glittered when she told him that she loved him. He missed her more now than he ever had; the smile that lit her face when he made her laugh, the way she leaned on his shoulder when she was sad, how she always knew to wake him up with a batch of fresh donuts every morning. He missed her hair in the morning, puffy and scraggly as opposed to its usual luxurious sheen; the way she looked in her housecoat in the mornings, quietly making a cup of tea. He missed her determination, her passion that showed in everything she did; her dedication to her work, and how he could creep out of bed at the early hours of the morning to see her clacking away at her typewriter. It was at these times he would sneak up behind her, carefully snake his arms around her waist and then haul her up and over his shoulder and into the bedroom, stating that there were times for work and play, and now was definitely a time for play. 

Rhianne smiled.

"You're a good husband to her" she stated, rising and holding the bloodied and tattered remains of her shirt to her chest as she moved to the bag, bending and searching for a new shirt. "Do you really think so?" Vash asked, moving behind her and watching over her shoulder as she rummaged through the clothes, food and blankets for something suitable to wear.

"Yes, I do" came the reply; as he back was turned to him as she slipped off the bloody remains of the shirt and slipped a fresh one over her head; a deep blue that offset her eyes, glowing in the firelight "I never mean to pick up on people's thoughts; they're usually projected like a movie on a screen or words on a tape in my mind because the sender doesn't know how to shield their minds. So I heard and I saw what you thought, and" she turned to him, and a tear was sliding slowly down her bloodied cheek "I thought it was the most wonderful thing I've ever seen.

"Love in itself is a beautiful thing. It's like a wonderful bird, brilliant and rare; if you sit out in the open waiting for it, it usually won't come to you, but will come when you aren't looking for it. You can't force it to sing it's wonderful song, and you can't make it sing for others. You have to be careful with it or it'll peck you and hurt; but if you treat it with care and don't smother its wild nature it's feathers will become more beautiful and radiant than before. Sometimes, though, it will fly away from you when you least expect it, and all you will have left is a single feather that will pierce your heart. And sometimes…sometimes Vash, we must set it free and hope that it will return to us….some day" A tear escaped her eye as she said this and a small sob crept from between her lips. Sitting heavily on the ground she allowed herself to place her face in her bloodstained hands and cry for Knives, who followed her now, probably with every intention of killing her. Her shoulders slumped in despair, and then felt the weight of a mechanical arm atop them as Vash placed a gentle arm around her shoulders, drawing her to lean on him as she cried. 

"Vash why does he hurt me?" she sighed through her sobs as her tears stained his shoulder "I don't know, but he doesn't mean to" Vash crooned, whispering and stroking her hair with his flesh hand, marveling at the texture like spun silk that entwined around his fingertips "Knives is a very confused person who has to deal with a lot of inner tumult over just about everything he does. He's never experienced love, and he doesn't understand how to open himself up to someone like you and I do. I hurt him when we were younger, back before the cities were destroyed and before I had the silver gun I carry with me always. He asked me to destroy the humans with him, because he said that they were just killing our sisters. But I couldn't; not after my promise to Rem and the beliefs I still hold true: that all life is sacred and not to be taken by the hand of another. When I left Knives…I think he took it a betrayal, and has never forgiven me for it. We were beaten as children and I was what kept him afloat in a sea of pain and rejection. Everything he did….crashing the Seeds ships, attempted genocide… they were all for my benefit. Knives is a much more caring person then most realize, yet he refuses to let people know how kind he can actually be because he's afraid of rejection and pain, reliving the feelings he had as a child. Trust me Rhianne, he doesn't mean to hurt you; not really. Knives doesn't know how to accept love. One day he will, I know he will" He sighed sadly, wishing that day had already come to pass. "Why do you think that Vash?" Rhianne asked, lifting her tear-stained face from his shoulder and gazing at him thoughtfully

"Because you're his angel. You will teach Knives to love"

Fresh tears welled in Rhianne's eyes and she smiled at him with a gaze filled with admiration and firelight. "I'm not an angel Vash" she smiled "you are. You never give up on anyone. I just look at you and I see your heart is filled with love for everything and it makes me smile because you've been hurt so much by everyone, yet you keep on getting up every morning and facing a world that for so long hated you for every breath you took. I admire you for having the nerve to stand up to your brother and try every damned day of your life to teach him the err of his ways; never giving up on him. I've come to appreciate everything you do for us all, and come to anger at the fact that no one recognizes the acts of kindness you kindly give to us every day. I've come to love you as a brother, Vash, and I have so much to thank you for. You're an incredible person for becoming the man you are. What amazes me the most about you, though is this: throughout your life people have tormented you and despised you, and you have seen people at their most desperate and animalistic state, yet you have never given up hope for anyone. Not Knives, not Humanity, and" she paused, wiping a tear from her eye "you've never given up hope for me, and for that I thank you"

And she leaned up and kissed him, planting her soft lips upon his bloodied cheek.

A/N: *Hides* Don't hurt me please! There's a reason for it all! *runs away*


	44. If Knives Won't

Disclaimer: *shakes a stick at anyone who says she owns Trigun*

Chapter Forty-Four: If Knives won't… 

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One day I'll fly away  
Leave all this to yesterday  
What more could your Love do for me?  
When will Love be through with me?  
Satine (Nicole Kidman)- One Day I'll Fly Away (Moulin Rouge)

Blood rushed to her cheeks and she felt a wave of remorse wash over her as she pulled away, her lips tasting of dried, metallic blood and the bittersweet taste of his perspiration clinging to her lips. A hand rushed to her reddened lips, as though to hide them from his eyes which brimmed with confusion and surprise. 

The apples of her cheeks shone cherry under the soft caress of the fire light; the softly pulsing light of the embers smooth along her skin like a lover's touch, and the leaping and dancing flames catching in her hair and setting it aglow like crimson ribbons. Crimson and citrine and golden ribbons that spun and danced in the breeze and the glow from the fire that mirrored the one that burned within her soul. Skin as clear and unblemished as ivory stained by dark red blood and the illuminating light of the gleaming fire flushed further with the shame of her act and the unfaithfulness that she had displayed therein. 

She trembled with fear of her actions, wishing not to confront the unabashed hatred she now felt towards herself for betraying her love in a fashion such as this. Upon her lips still lingered his taste, and she shamefully savored it, licking it from her lips and sighing silently inside her weary soul at the fiery and uncontrollable taste that erupted on her tongue. He tasted so pure. Of fresh fallen snow and of hot, dry sand and of uncontrollable and irreplaceable love that she envied him for. Not for the love her felt, which raged through the very marrow of his bones and his crimson blood in the name 'Meryl', that love which so warmed her heart in a night of darkness and bitter unforgiving cold. No, her eyes blazed a flashing jade green envy for the love that this woman whom she had never met, yet felt the effects of her love for him in all he did, gave to him like an exquisite gemstone for all it's rarity and beauty. For the labors of their love showed in all the blonde man did. When he spoke of her his voice betrayed his lust, his insatiable craving for this woman who had charmed him so skillfully. It spoke of years of love for this woman; love so strong that it ran in his very veins and gave it its crimson sheen. Red for love. Red for Meryl who he loved so unquestionably and utterly. 

It was so unfair, she reasoned, that everyone should be able to feel love but her. She wished it so; craved it with an insatiable need that was near overwhelming. She wanted to desperately to be loved; to be cradled within someone's arms as she slept, to wake to their smiling face and to know that they did not judge her for the mistakes she'd made in her past. She had been a foolish and hasty woman once, and had sought to escape the consequences of her actions in the arms of someone that could accept all that; and love her for it. 

_Who do I try to fool with my hopeless dreams? _She thought bitterly, wiping at a tear sliding down her cheek_ no one will ever love me. Knives doesn't even love me…_

"He does"

Her head snapped up, gazing into his aqua eyes she saw herself mirrored in them, as he saw her: a brave and determined woman whose life had been filled with many a trial and tribulation, whose hope and wondrous spirit had carried her through days of endless pain and a broken heart that constantly was torn apart by the man whom she dared to call her love. More tears formed in her eyes as she looked into those pools of love and understanding, she felt her heart swell in admiration for this man who saw everything with open eyes and an unyielding heart. Who could see the beauty in any man, and saw it in a creature like herself. For in her mind's eye that was what she truly was; a terrible creature who had been so selfish as to consent to killing millions over the life of one person, a disgusting monster whom she could not even truly call a woman because of her rash acts that would have brought about the end of countless lives; both guilty and innocent. The pain of it was more than she thought she could ever bear. She had fled her planet, fearful of the consequences of her actions, to begin a new life amongst new people. Here, on this listless dust ball of a planet she had sought to find renewed hope amongst her kin and, perhaps, even a shred of love in a life that been so barren since that fateful day when her only family had vanished like a phantom from her life forever. 

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice naught but a whisper caught by the wind and carried off into the waning night. His eyes she gazed up into with such transfixion softened for her, shining like water beneath moonlight at the tears that lapped at them. "He does love you Rhianne" he stated again, his words as soft and gentle as a lover's caress as they reached her ears. Tears sprung afresh in her eyes and trailed down her bloodied and reddened cheek at these words, which came like the sweet and sad melody of a violin in her ears. Her hands clenched and unclenched tightly in her palms as she tried in vain to control the emotions engulfing her like the rising tide consumes a tower of sand, lulling it with it's harmonious sounds and it's smooth and effortlessly beautiful rhythmic movement. Until it moves to it's unsuspecting prey and laps gently at first, eroding it's sense of insecurity with it's gentle caress and then wrapping it in it's arms and pulling it away into to ocean. And like the tide pulls even the proudest tower to the waters her emotions had lapped gently at her heart and now crashed down upon it and dragged it asunder; and a salty ocean of tears crashed down upon her face like the waters upon the soft sand. 

"He doesn't Vash" she sobbed, partially overtaken by the wrenching spasms "he never did. I was just his toy. He just wanted to use me, just like he's used everyone else he's ever met. I'm just another figure, another casualty to his heart. I…I really thought I could change him" she sighed through her tears, looking up into his fire lit face which, too, was streaked with tears "but Knives doesn't want to change." She felt Vash's hands on her shoulders and she submitted to her emotions and turned to bury her face in his chest. Her fingers entwined themselves in the fabric of his shirt, tugging at the smooth cotton and dampening it with her tears that were warm against his skin. She was painfully aware of his hands entwining themselves in her hair, caressing her head and she cried into him and unleashed her months of anguish and deception from his brother in her sobs, large shuddering spasms that rocked her whole body and caught in her throat. The weight of his chin upon the crown of her head comforted her as he held her close and whispered in the softest of voices:

"If Knives won't love you, I will"

Her sobs halted, her tears blinked away as she pulled herself from his chest, ignoring the large wet marks upon his shirt. Her eyes, wide and disbelieving, gazed at him as he sat before her, bathed in the glow of the dying fire whose embers lit his hair aflame and shone a crimson light upon his skin. His hand found hers and held it fast as she attempted to pull away. His right hand, his flesh hand, reached up to brush stray rugged blood-clotted hair that fell before her awestruck eyes and he smiled at her "my feelings for you grow ever-stronger with ever second my eyes are upon you. You are an angel, Rhianne, and none of us are worthy to even lay our eyes upon you" Rhianne attempted again to pull her hand from his, yet he held it fast, still smiling at her beneath a sky of fading stars and light that crept silently over their heads in an array of reds yellows and oranges. 

"Vash" she sighed, turning her head away "you love Meryl. If this is truly how you feel then I will leave you, because I would never dare to tear you from her. She is your woman, your wife and your love and it is not my place to take you from her. I refuse it." Vash's flesh hand crept to her chin and turned it to face him, ignoring the small resistance she gave him "Rhianne, Angel, do not think that I love you more than Meryl, for that can never be. I will never love anyone the way I love her. But I love you; that much is painfully true to me. You're like the daughter I can never have. The sister I grew up without. I adore you in the way I once adored Knives, so long ago while we were still surrounded by the only family I have ever known upon the Seeds ship. It hurts me to see you in such pain over him, and if you would do Meryl and I the honor of blessing us with your presence in our home it would make me very happy. If Knives refuses to love you and be your family, then I will take his place. I can never love you like he will, and I refuse to do so on Meryl's account."

He paused, and his fingers brought her face closer to his, mere millimeters separating them. She could feel his warm breath upon her face, could count his lashes without missing a one and was terribly aware that the strain of his fingers on her skin had stopped and she allowed herself to be this close to him.

"…But I do love you Rhianne" 

And suddenly she felt his fingers push her closer, annihilating any space between them and forcing her lips against his, and she melted at the wonderful contact. He was so warm, his caress so loving as his hand moved to caress her jaw and the other drew her closer to him, so that their bodies touched. Their lips moved together as one, their breath in tandem, and she reveled in the luscious feeling that overtook her. Her eyes opened as he skillfully slid a tongue into her mouth and met with his for an instant, and forced her to recoil, tearing herself from his grasp and the embrace of his lips. For a moment she had seen them flash icy blue, so like Knives' that a terrible sense of guilt overtook her. 

"Vash I…" she stuttered, daring to meet his gaze. Yet his eyes were not on her, they were cast, wide and terrified, across the fire to the open desert. Fear blossomed in her chest, tight and hot, as her gaze followed his eyes and met with the icy pair that regarded her angrily from across the crackling fire.


	45. Don't Leave Me

Disclaimer: I'm too busy being heartbroken to point out I don't own Trigun. 

Chapter Forty-Five: Don't Leave Me…

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Why does my heart cry, 

Feelings I can't fight?

You're free to leave me

But just don't deceive me

And please, believe me when I say

I LOVE YOU!

Ewan McGregor (Christian)- Roxanne (Moulin Rouge)

A/N: Knives acts a little OOT here, I think, but it's because the part at the end is a representation of what happened to me today…

The embers of the fire glowed red-hot, angrily snapping with heat and tension; reflecting tremendously the look of fury that clouded Knives' eyes. He gazed at them, the man whom he had called his brother and his kin, and the woman whom he had so foolishly allowed to enter his heart as they sat there together beneath his fiercely glowing gaze. He felt tears of pain as the stab of betrayal pierced his heart like an arrow so true and the flames of anger consume his soul in a fiery blaze. 

The woman he had once called his rose shakily to her feet, and he could nearly smell the stench of guilt upon her; smeared across her face like the streaks of blood over her flushed skin. His brother's hand reached out to grasp hers, yet she pulled it violently away, glaring at him darkly before moving to him on unsteady feet. Tears cascaded from her eyes, reddened and ringed with blood, as they roamed up to his face and tried, in vain, to meet her gaze with his. Yet she could not, for the shame overwhelmed her and a stifled sob escaped her quivering lips as she attempted to again. But she could not, for so great was her pain and so terrible her shame that she could only focus on then mole to the right of his icy eyes, for each time she tried to look into his furious gaze her vision was clouded by tears of humiliation and unfaithfulness and she shook so violently that she half-wished Vash would help her to stand. But, focusing on that miniscule mole, she bit her lip and spoke her tear-ridden words:

"Knives, I'm-"

Yet the sting of Knives' hand cut off her words as it collided with her cheek, her head snapping back at the power behind the blow. "I don't need to hear your worthless excuses. I don't need your meaningless apologies or your attempts to reconcile with me for the things you have done."

"Knives, if you'll just listen to me" she started, moving to rise up to meet his eyes again; yet his hand collided with her chest and again she tasted sand in her mouth as she fell back. "I should have ignored you the moment my mind made contact with yours" Knives sneered "I should have ignored every work you spoke to me and every filthy lie you told me. You have never meant anything to me, and yet you insist upon calling yourself my woman and even then you betray those words which you spoke. You've soiled yourself with your lies and with his touch, and know that if ever you meant a thing to me, you do not as of this moment. I leave you Rhianne, wishing that I had left you to be buried beneath the sand." 

His face, in her eyes, took on a handsome hard quality that she had only seen in the portraits of the nobles from long ago, his eyes as hard as polished steel and his mouth a slim line and through her tears and his undeniable anger and hurt, she thought him a man of the truest beauty; a thought that drew more tears to sear her heated cheeks. Ah, how she wished that she could have valued him in such a light when he had smiled at her, held her and spoken all with his tundra eyes. Yet those times seemed so hard to touch upon, so far away and so fine that they slipped through her fingers as she tried to grasp them. A plant of long life and a life that entwined with that of many others, she never tied herself to someone so strongly since her departed sibling. Blue and aqua, the ribbons of their lives had knotted deeply together and she had never dwelt upon the thought that it could ever really end. That, despite the innumerable fights and spats and whatnot, she would always love Knives and he her, and to have this ripped about, to have these intertwining ribbons of their lives cut apart and sheared with his sharp words cut her in the same fashion, hacked away at her soul which lay now before her, tattered and broken, in the bloodied sand and in Knives' eyes. 

"Knives, please listen to me" her voice thick with tears she rose again "I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doing… I didn't know you would follow me, please understand" a hand rose to her lips as she cried, staring silently at his angry eyes and awaiting his response with an ever-growing sense of dread that knotted her stomach like the ties she had once envisioned knotted them together.

"Oh I understand perfectly" he snarled, his voice dark and deep with rage "you thought that I would allow you to gallivant around my planet without my supervision, and you take that opportunity to betray everything you've said to me with my own worthless brother!". He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and blinked furiously to keep them at bay; he was not weak like the woman before him, who succumbed so easily and willingly to her emotions which lapped at her mind like an ocean tide, and there she stood, her feet soaked in that which had been her undoing, and had allowed it to wash upon her and drown her in a tide of sorrow and guilt. "No, I never meant to" she stammered, sobs wrenching at her words "I didn't want to Vash-"

"Yes, Vash" Knives cut in, in his voice thick with hate at this last word as he turned to face his twin "what about Vash? Vash who has prattled on for so many years about his idiotic morals and beliefs suddenly decides to go against them? Whatever happened to your precious Meryl, Vash?" he sneered at the blonde haired man before him, rejoicing silently in the tears that welled in Vash's eyes at the mention of his useless human woman. He had not thought of her yet, Knives smirked darkly, had not dwelt upon the consequences of his brash actions and how his raven-haired spider would take to his unfaithfulness. 

__

"Knives" Rhianne started again, then stopped uncertain of how to continue. "Would you have told me?" the wheat-haired man before her sneered "or would you have led me to believe you had done nothing with him?"

"I didn't want to hurt you" she stated quietly, her eyes downcast and tearful "but Knives…I didn't want to have to burden you with something like that. I love you Knives… don't you love me?" she asked, her voice half-pleading. 

"I don't know" came the response; sounding nearly as tear-ridden as the question. Yet she could not tell if he cried, for his face was turned to the shadows and all she could see of him was his wheat hair, crimson in the light of the fire. She felt a gasp escape her lips.

"What?" she asked, hoping against vain hope that she had misheard; that he lied just to hurt her. Yet the same words met her ears and tears sprung afresh in her eyes "what are you saying?" the words escaped her lips, the words that could lead to the end that was within his grasp, and she prayed that he would not grasp that moment and do what she feared so. 

"I can't be with you" the words rung in her ears like sound echoes across the desert "Knives…why? Please, I'm so, so sorry! I wasn't thinking; I was hurt and I'm sorry! Knives please don't leave me!" she sobbed as he turned away from her "I wouldn't have told you, that's true. But I didn't want to hurt you, please, listen to me!" she reached her hand out to grasp his arm, yet he shook her off with a snarl.

"Knives!" the name fell out of her mouth, a cry of pain and anguish "I don't want to be without you! I love you and I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you and I would spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you but please just give me another chance!"

"I can't" 

The two words uttered from his lips shattered her; drove into her tender, bruised heart like a hot knife, shattering her hopes and her dreams with one fatal blow. Defeated, she fell to her knees upon the sand "why not? I…I don't understand" she buried her face in her hands, feeling the warm tears splash against them. She tasted the dusty air as she sobbed, her loud deep breaths echoing across the desert sand. 

"I'm not expecting you to" Knives replied, inclining his head towards her "but I can't be with you. I want to be alone"

"But I don't want to be without you!" she cried after him, her voice pitching in her anguish "I'm sorry I've taken you for granted all this time; I fought with you and went against you, and I am willing to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Don't you want me to be with you?"

"No"

One word. One word that echoed with such finality in her ears. One word that shattered what remained of her hopes and her spirit and her very soul. She felt like a piece of porcelain, cracked down the middle by his cruelty. At his words, however, a flare of anger arose amongst her sorrow, spurned by the anguish and terror she felt when thinking of life without him. Tears splashed against her flushed cheeks and she cried at him "how does it feel to know you've broken someone's heart?" she sneered angrily at his face, which was cast in a mask of placidness "to know that I have no reason to live anymore? I gave you my all and this is how you repay me, by leaving me to wake every morning with the smothering feeling that I can't talk to you if I'm upset, that I can't see your smiling face or hear you say you love me? I hope your conscience eats at you Knives, I hope it eats at you from the inside out. What is it like to break someone's heart Knives?"

He seemed stunned by her sudden spurt of anger for a moment, his eyebrows raised briefly and his eyes widened in the light. Then a dark look replaced the surprised light in his eyes and he chuckled angrily "perhaps it is I who should ask you"

With his statement said, he turned his back on her and walked away, and Rhianne was left upon the sand, tears in her eyes and upon her cheeks, sobs upon her lips and her heart shattered inside her chest, as she watched him walk away and into the waning night.

A/N: That (the dialogue) was what happened to me today. My love, the only person I've ever truly cared about, walked out of my life today. Here I am, left with a broken heart and a new chapter. Initially, this dialogue was not meant to be here, it was to be more eloquent and more 'my' style, but I wanted to capture exactly how I interpreted it and what was said without too much embellishment. The story will go on as planned, this was just my life influencing it directly. Sorry if you didn't like it, but anyone who has had their heart broken like that would understand that sometimes you need to share pain like this… LL


	46. Despair

Disclaimer: I'm still too upset to deny owning Trigun.

Chapter Forty-Six: Despair

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Well in case you failed to notice,  
In case you failed to see,  
This is my heart bleeding before you,  
This is me down on my knees, and...  
These foolish games are tearing me apart,  
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.  
You're breaking my heart.

Jewel- Foolish Games  


A/N: I'm still hurt, this is still a representation of what happened to me.

Tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks and the world blurred before her watery aqua eyes. Hands clenched into fists pounded at the ground and nails drove into fleshy palms, drawing the thinnest film of blood from the pale skin. Her hair hung raggedly about her face and her lips parted in sobs of utter sorrow and despair. Her boy convulsed with each wrenching sob that shook her slender form as she wailed, her voice cracking and pitching as she cried after him. Yet he did not turn back to her, and his name was repeated over and over again as it echoed hollowly across the dunes. Her head spun in pain as the crown of her head exploded with fire at her incessant tears; her stomach convulsed and she heaved her innards upon the sand. She shuddered violently and closed her eyes against the morning light, feeling her eyelashes melt together with the warmth of her tears. Tears she shed for the only man she had ever loved like this, to whom she had given her heart and her soul and her utter and complete devotion save for a slight mistake, yet had cast her away from him like she was nothing but yesterday's trash.

She felt arms slide around her shoulders, as though to embrace her and quell her tears, yet she shoved them forcefully away "go away Vash" she snarled, her voice filled more with hopelessness than with anger. She heard him slide away from her and let her sorrow continue it's course. She felt as though he had stabbed her heart; sliced into it so that it would never heal the same. That he had shredded her soul and her mind with his sharp words, for she would never be the same woman again. Destined never again to be happy; never again to wake to the dawn with the knowledge that he had her love, and she his.

"Knives!" she cried one final time as he reached the top of the dune. Here he stopped, turning back to look at her with a face she would remember forever in her dreams. His skin, pale and unmarred, was now red and streaked with lines of tears that shone in the light of the near-cresting suns. His hair was disheveled and shining like a halo in the light, his eyes spoke of betrayal and pain and thousands of emotions that one cannot even begin to describe. His mouth quivered so violently that she could see it; and she watched as the mist of his breath was ragged and quick. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at him, the man she had loved with all her heart 

"I'm so sorry Knives!" she called, her voice catching on his name as she sobbed it out "I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry about everything but you kept your pain hidden inside yourself and I never knew how much I'd hurt you. I'm so sorry!"

She heard a sigh escape his lips, and then the words that, for an inexplicable reason that she could not comprehend, tore at her heart and her mind and soul "don't be sorry Rhianne" Still sobbing, she rose to her feet and ran to him, hoping that he would embrace her in his arms and stroke her hair and whisper in her ear that he still loved her and he would forgive her mistake. Yet when she ran to him and threw her arms about his shoulders, as she had done so many times, she felt an unfamiliar tenseness in them as his arms dangled listlessly at his sides. "Don't do that" he spoke in his dark and teary voice as he moved from her grasp and out of her arms. Tears welled afresh in her eyes as she felt him pull away from her, his familiar warmth replaced by the cold air and the tender embrace for which she had prayed was dealt by the wind as it whipped about her as he backed away from her as though terrified of her. Terrified of her love, perhaps. Or, she sobbed listlessly, perhaps he was afraid to love her anymore because of the pain he had endured at her hand. 

"Knives…I can't be without you" She sobbed, reaching out to hold him and again grasping naught but cold air. For all his tears, his eyes were cold as he regarded her "you can and you will" he stated. 

"I refuse to be! I can't and I won't!" she cried, becoming near hysterical. Knives dealt her an emotionless shrug "you will be, because I won't be with you" The words drove into her already bruised heart, stepping on her soul as a child would an ant. "Knives, I love you…"

She was met with no response, only the even, steadily tearing gaze he had dealt her since the moment he had come upon her mistake. "Don't you love me?" she begged, placing a hand upon her chest, over her heart which bled for him.

"I…I don't know" he responded, turning away from her. She took a step towards him, painfully aware of Vash's eyes against her back, begging her to just let him go "how can you not know?" she pleaded "it's a yes-or-no question, Knives. There is no in-between with love" At his silence she felt any bulwarks she had constructed against her emotions crack and fall, and out poured her emotions in all their sorrowful and despondent glory. 

"You aren't going to take me back, are you?" She asked half-heartedly, already knowing the answer. Somewhere deep down inside of her she prayed he would see the err of his ways and take her back into his arms again and forgive her for her careless mistake.

"No" 

That same word, she sobbed. That same damnable word that she loathed with such hatred that it nearly tore her apart more than her pain at his departure. "Then I'm sorry you feel that way" she stated, willing her voice not to falter at this crucial moment "I guess this is goodbye then…I will always love you Knives."

That said, she turned on her heel and ran towards the towering rocks in which her world had crumbled around her ankles, sobs wrenching at her and threatening to sway her balance and send her tumbling into the tear-ridden sand. Her tears fell into the wind and she cared naught how stupid and fragile she must have sounded, for there was no point anymore. No point in happiness, no point in laughter, no point in life unless Knives was there. She brushed past Vash, who stood with hopeful arms outstretched, ready to receive her sobbing form as Knives walked silently away. Crumbling into a heap before the fire she allowed herself to wail out into the waning night in her despair. For a moment she did not move, and then she scrambled to the bag which was propped against the stone and rummaged inside of it as Vash watched silently, leaning against a rock, tears falling from his eyes at her pain. Within a moment she had found the object, and she crawled back to the fire and stared into it for a moment with tear-ridden eyes and raised her right arm up before her, and Vash saw a glint of silver and then the shimmer of blood as the razor she held in her hand cut through the skin of her arm. Her eyes glazed at the pain as she felt it and allowed the blood to fall into the fire, watching as tears fell still down her cheeks. The other arm was raised and pierced before Vash could move, and he stopped in his tracks at the amount of blood that cascaded out of the slim yet deep tears in her arms. Biting her lips, she thrust her arms into the fire and the stench of burning skin met his nostrils; the repulsive poignant stench that had greeted him upon his arrival upon the planet as the charred bodies of the less fortunate ships tumbled out of the fiery debris.

A moment they rested there, the blade turning red-hot, and he gasped with terror as she drew back her neck and brought the razor to the skin with a light hiss as the searing metal met with her skin, and her watched as her lips trembled and she whispered Knives' name. It seemed that the name of his brother who had left her so brokenhearted brought him out of the state of shock he had been stewing in, and he lunged foreword and cried out for her to stop. His artificial arm stretched out and wrenched her hand from her throat and he heard her gasp as the blade dug into her palm and felt the warm blood splash against him and stain the sand. Pulling the blaze from her hand he threw it effortlessly away and caught her when she scrambled to go after it.

"Rhianne, you can't do this" he stated forcefully, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her "he isn't worth all your pain. You can do better, I know it"

"Damn it Vash" she cried, attempting to pull away, yet too weak to succeed "I don't want to do better! There isn't anyone better for me than Knives, and if there were I wouldn't leave him anyway. I love him, Vash, and I never stopped to consider how much I loved him until he was gone. He is my world, and without him I have no reason to live"

"Yes you do Rhianne!" he insisted, maintaining a grip so tight on her shoulders that she could feel the flesh bruising beneath his fingers "you have people who care about you and love you, be it here or wherever you came from. People love you and if Knives doesn't that's his problem and his loss"

At this more tears fell from her eyes as she stared him fiercely in the eyes "it's all my fault" she stated "I shouldn't have done what I did. If I could take it back I would; I would take back every single thing I had ever done to hurt him." She paused, overcome by her sobs and Vash took the opportunity to interject "Rhianne, it isn't your fault. You made a mistake, it's true. But he should know that you love him by now, after all the things you two have dealt with. And I refuse to sit here and listen to you take all this out on yourself"

"All I want is to run after him, to call him and to beg him to take me back. To tell him that I would do anything to be his woman again…" she was again overcome by her sobs "I love him so much and he just can't seem to understand that and I wish that he could, because I will spend _the rest of my life_ making it up to him"

She moved away from him and placed a hand over her arms, whose skin had bubbled and charred black, covered in stinking blood from her lacerations. Within a moment they were as they once were, and she crawled down into the blanket that still lay down upon the ground, closing her eyes and praying for sleep. Sleep that would, in her dreams, cleanse her pain ad her suffering and would deliver her from her overwhelming despair.

A/N: Dear Readers: I need your advice. My love says he will not have me back, yet his tears and words betray him. I am at a loss, what should I do? And so here I turn to you, you who have read my emotions through the eyes of Rhianne for 46 chapters and hopefully more. But I have no motivation for anything, and I am not sure if I can continue this story in my state. I am like stated earlier, I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, I see but I do not truly see, I touch but I do not feel. I am dead, dear readers, to all but his love, that which has been taken from me. So I ask of you, how can I regain his love? You are all intelligent and wonderful people, that I have seen in your reviews, and I need your reviews, so to speak, on this matter. Please help out an author whose will is fading…LL


	47. Scaling the Wall of Reality

Disclaimer: Still alone…still without Trigun

Chapter Forty-Seven: Scaling the Wall of Reality 

_Only when I stop to think about it…_

I hate everything about you!

Why do I love you?!

I hate everything about you!

Why, do I love you??

(I hate) Everything About You- Three Days Grace

A/N: I want to apologize for taking so long to update. My love, he came back to me the Monday after I posted the precedent chapter to this one. I was so happy that he had found it in his heart to give me another chance… Yet it seems not so, for last Wednesday he told me he doesn't love me anymore, and can't be with me. Again. It is now Thanksgiving Monday and I have nothing to be thankful for save all of you. I could sit here for hours and spill my heart to you, but I must write the story in thanks for your wonderful support and reviews. It's truly heart-warming to see how people can connect with one another simply through words, and how complete strangers will offer words of kindness when another is in a time of need. Perhaps there is a chance for the world after all if there are people like all of you. I am going through a period in which I am numb to my emotions, but reading your words of encouragement brings a smile to my face and lets me know that there are good people out there. I would like to send special thanks to Jesscheaux Kuwabara, Nova, and Vain Songbird of Death for their kind words. You are truly wonderful people to offer encouragement to someone you know only through their words, thank you all. 

Lady Leizel

The suns rose high above her, and she shut her eyes firmly against their blinding light, willing them to be gone and to leave her in her hole of infinite blackness and sorrow. To just let her remain in her little niche of darkness and despair. Yet it would not, and she begrudgingly pulled her head from beneath the blanket, her red tear-streaked face meeting with the world. She had not slept; it had been as elusive to her as water upon the sand of this little planet. She had lain there for hours, her head cradled in her arms, praying fervently in her cocoon of tears and sorrow that sleep would take her away from her pain; envelop her in it's arms of nothingness and let her rest a while in a world of her subconscious where she would not have to face the daunting thought of a life without Knives. She had slept, dozed really, for a few moments; dreamt of his face with a smile and then opened her eyes to that fleeting second between sleep and reality where everything is perfect and blissful, and her lips parted in a smile and her eyes glimmered with happiness. But it was not to last. For the world, and it's troubles and truths and trials and tribulations and the wickedness of Knives words, came crashing down upon her and crushed her like frail sand castle beneath a title wave. The moment it did so her eyes were wet with salty tears that were so like those of the ocean that crashed down upon her castle of dreams. 

Still tearing, she crawled from the blanket and to the bag Vash had packed, the items within strewn over the sand and now half-buried in the quartz-ridden pebbles. Her trembling hands dug through the shirts and pants and undergarments and the other items still in the bag until she found the items of her search: a pen and several pieces of paper on a metal spiral. Without a word she moved back to where she had lain for so many hours in her despair, and there, paying no heed to the missing Vash, began to write:

_Dear Knives,_

I'm not sure if you're going to read this; I doubt you ever will because you probably wouldn't take this if I offered it to you. But I need to get my thoughts out, now that I'm somewhat calmer than before. I miss you and I love you still. I'm sorry that I've hurt you like I have; I wish I had been more aware of your feelings. I suppose that it's just people's nature to return pain to the source, if you get what I mean. Yes, I was miserable then, too. But I was so terrible to you because I couldn't see any other way to display how upset I was. I couldn't seem to reach through to you, but be it through calmness and laying it all out or crying and getting upset, I just couldn't. I know that I hurt you but I don't think you realize the extent to which you have hurt me. I know that something has changed between us, but I hope that we can work around it, because I know that you love me deep down inside, even if you can't admit it to me or to even to yourself. I just hope that you can realize this. Betimes I was sad with you, but I'm dying from the inside out without you. I don't think either of us understands the wonderful thing we had, and it hurts to see how quickly all that we've been through can be dismissed so easily. I've gone through a lot for you, Knives, as have you for me. And I know in my heart that you would not have gone through all that you have if you didn't love me. I'm asking you one last time here to forgive me and my mistakes; to come back to me, like I hope and pray you secretly desire to do. But if you do not, if you ignore my pleas, then I will pester you no more. I will simply be content to live out my life knowing simply that I love you and I always will.

Rhianne

She stared at the page for a moment, the flimsy sheet of paper beneath her bloody and botched fingers. Something was amiss within the context of her letter. Something was missing, a small corner that completed the stone. Her eyes roamed the page time and time again, searching for the miniscule error that ebbed away at her mind like flames licking at the toes of the condemned at the stake, tickling and burning at the back of her skull. Again and again her aqua orbs scanned the page, searching for the grammatical flaw that nagged at her like a small child tugging at their mother's hand. Then she found it, stumbled upon it like so many people have stumbled across the simple yet important things across the thousands of years humans have existed. She stumbled upon her err: her name. It sat there, ever prominent in her flowing script, yet it was lacking in something. It looked so alone, simply 'Rhianne'. It was so final, she sniffed sadly. Not 'love' not 'sincerely', just 'Rhianne' plain and simple. She sighed and wiped at a stray tear as it escaped her eyes, her letter felt so emotionless, so unloving and cruel. She sighed, her brow furrowing and her eyes clenching shut as she made to halt the onslaught of tears that threatened her. She then picked up the pen and signed at the end, at the very bottom of the page:

_…I will love you always and forever_

She sighed a heavy sigh of defeat as she folded the paper up and tucked it into the back pocket of her pants. Rising, she moved to one of the pillars, which now cast a long shadow of darkness over the heated sand. Her tears flowed freely as she climbed, her eyes focused only n the blurred top of the rock that she sought to reach. _The last time I climbed this I knew that he loved me… _she thought solemnly as her fingers searched the surface of the rock for another niche in which to grasp. Her right foot stretched out over the rock, searching for a ledge upon which to rest her weight and not dangle so precariously as she was now so doing, holding on only by her right hand and a small amount of stone under her left big toe. She squeezed her eyes firmly shut against the small rocks that toppled down at her from where her left hand sought out a ledge and was nearly bowled over by the overwhelming sensation that someone was watching her. Her heart seemed to skip a beat in her chest, could it be that Knives had returned and was now below her? She paused in her endeavor, pondering weather she should glance towards the ground so far below her to see, or just to continue to climb and ignore him. A war was waged momentarily in her mind as she weighed each action, and without realizing it she craned her head over her outstretched shoulder, searching the ground for the one who watched her as she climbed. 

_Please be Knives_ she pleaded mentally as she leaned over her shoulder, resting her chin on the fabric of her shirt and peering over the rumpled fabric down at the sand below her.

Yet she saw no one.

Shifting her weight she tucked her head between her shoulder and looked down over her chest and down the length of her legs and the seemingly endless stretch of rock to the ground. The ground of pale sand that was so far below her that 'twas no more that a ripple of beige satin beneath her. 

Yet there was no one there.

She sighed, shaking her head and pulling herself higher up on the rock; she was just being foolish, there was no one there watching her, especially not Knives. Knives was iles from here by now, trudging through the sand with those purposeful steps of his, leaving his mark upon the sand of the planet the way he had left his mark upon her heart. Yet unlike the planet, whose sand would move and blow over and leave no trace of his presence, his mark was left forevermore upon her heart and she knew in the darkest and direst pit of her soul that time would not smooth over the jagged edges of her remorse like it would a stone; hers was a pain that would last an eternity at his hand. Running her hand over the stone she now scaled she thought of the hundreds of years the sand had whittled away at the tough stone, yet how it stayed ever-prominent, a blemish upon the flat rolling surface of the planet. This was what her pain was, a mark left upon her soul, a ripe purple bruise on her heart.

__

I hate him… she thought idly as she climbed. The thought bubbled to the surface of her mind like bubbles upon a pond and she gasped in the aftermath of the thought. Could it be true, could she hate the man who had given her so much? Was it that simple to turn her back on the man who she had loved for so long and who had shared so much with her; her sadness and her pain and her happiness and joy? She bit her lip and tasted tart blood flow into her mouth, and closed her eyes at the sharp sting of the pierced flesh and the sharp hint of new tears that faced her. Her hand grasped at another niche in the stone, yet she could not grasp how she could resent him so. She climbed and her fear at this newfound resentment rose higher with each inch she climbed. How could she feel this way towards the man whom she had given her all? Her life, her devotion and her trust had been wasted, she realized, upon this man who had left her so quickly. 

A breeze rushed against her face, hot and humid, and she wondered idly how his heart of ice did not melt at the heat of the suns and the wind, for surely this man must have a heart of pure ice and stone to be so cruel to the one who had loved him so dear. She clenched her teeth and climbed. She despised the thought of hating him, it made her feel dark and hollow and cold inside; her heart felt like stone and her eyes were touched with frost.

__

I will hate him. She decided as she reached a hand over onto the top of the stone_ I will hate him with all my heart and my soul and it will make bearing this burden all the easier, for I will not miss the man I loved. The man I loved is gone and has been replaced with this cruel bastard with a heart of stone. Well I shall be replaced, too; my heart will not bruise so easily as it has this day. I will become a hard woman who will not open herself to any man so easily and will not fall into the enticing snare of love so naively as I have before. I shall be cold and unloving and I will not allow myself to become attached as I have to him to anyone else, for they will all cause me intolerable pain, just as he has. I can do it if I try, I know I can. I will hate them all. I will…I will…_

"You will be just like him" Said the figure atop the rock, silhouetted before her eyes by the light of the twin suns.


	48. Rhianne's Paper Cranes

Disclaimer: Trigun, who needs it?

Chapter Forty-Eight: Rhianne's Paper Cranes

_Laugh it off and let it go _

And when you wake up it'll seem 

So yesterday, so yesterday, 

Haven't you heard that I'm gonna be okay?

So Yesterday- Hilary Duff

Once I heard a story.

I learned very little about Earth, my home world, from Rem during that short year, yet this story I took with me and carry it still in my heart to this very day. The artificial sun shone down upon her in the Recreation Room in the Seeds ship, and I marveled at the dance of red and brown in her hair as she moved and laughed with us as Knives and I tumbled across the grass as we sought to outrun each other. Yet Knives always beat me, for whenever we passed Rem I halted and merely gazed at her with a kind of loving fixation that perhaps you cannot grasp, never having met the Earth-bound Angel that was Rem Saverem. I remember one time, though, as we bounded across the grass towards our tree, that I stopped, as I usually did when Rem entered my sight. Yet though she was usually a busy woman, this time she looked far calmer and more serene than I can ever recall her being, and I walked curiously to her and smiled as she embraced me and kissed the top of my blonde head.

"Hello Vash" she smiled at me, releasing me from her warm grasp and allowing me to sit upon the blanket next to her. Leaning against her bare arm I marveled at the muscles that worked beneath her skin and the web of tiny veins visible under the pale cover of her ivory skin. I could see the millions of colors that danced upon the rainbow that was her ski and sense the cells I could feel dividing and multiplying inside her. She was, like all Humans are, a work of natural art. I smiled up at her, brushing a few pieces of her chocolate hair back from her face, and returned the salutation. "Hi Rem!" I smiled, turning down to her hands, moving busily at something on the ground "what are you doing?"

Her laughter echoed about the chamber, bringing Knives to see what was going on. "This" she said as he sat down next to me, an awed look on his face "is called origami. It's something people did a long time ago back on Earth" At these words she held up a tiny paper, folded to a tiny little bird in the palm of her hand. I felt my eyes light up with excitement "oh Rem, that's amazing!" I smiled "can you teach me how?" I felt my smile widen as she nodded and unfolded the paper to a flat piece on the blanket, showing me how to fold the simple paper into a tiny animal. 

_"What's the point?" Knives asked, looking at the bird in her palm, his face a blank slate upon which she could carve out her knowledge "I don't see a point in folding a little piece of paper into something" _

"Well" Rem smiled, leaning back on her palms and allowing me to sit on her lap like the child I was "originally origami was from old, letters and paper to wrap items in were folded. But eventually it became a method of amusement and education for both small children and adults alike. And there were certain suspicions that went with origami as well" she smirked, holding up a finger and wagging it ominously at us.

"_Like what?" I cried, jumping onto her and nearly pushing her over in my excitement "what kind of superstitions Rem?" Pushing me back to the blanket she sat back up and smiled at me "such curious boys you both are. I'll tell you the story of Sadoko and the Thousand Paper Cranes*, shan't I?_

During World War II on Earth an Atom Bomb was dropped on Hiroshima where many people were injured, killed, and later on suffered life threatening illnesses. Sadoko Sasaki had developed Leukemia as a result of the radiation from the bomb. She was a strong and loving child! While in the hospital her best friend Chizuko made her a beautiful Crane out of gold paper. She told Sadoko an old story "if a sick person folds 1000 paper cranes, the Gods will Grant her wish and make her well again." This kept Sadoko going, each day she would fold paper cranes .The cranes hung from the ceiling, while the golden crane stayed by her side. Sadoko tired and in pain folded her last crane - she reached six hundred and forty four. 

"Did she get to a thousand?" Knives asked, his interest perked by Rem's story. Yet her smile faded and she shook her head "no Knives, she only reached that amount before she passed away. But it is still said that if you make a thousand paper cranes your wishes will come true…"

I remember it so well, her story; which is why I sit here atop this tower of stone and fold them for my Sadoko, dear Rhianne whose very life hangs in the balance because of my brother's cruelty. I can hear her thoughts as though she shouts them, her words of hatred and how she desires to be as cold and heartless as he. Perhaps her life is not at stake…yet; but her very soul hangs by a thread to which only my brother can cut. I refuse to allow her to become the monster he is; I refuse to simply stand by and watch her soul deteriorate and her world crumble beneath her… 

"I will not let you be like him"

His statement rung in her ears as she pulled herself upon the rock where he sat. Her eyes widened at the wondrous and beautiful sight that met her tear-ridden eyes: Vash sat before her, cross-legged upon the stone in his bloodied and dirty clothes, his hair lopsided and tumbling into his eyes which spoke of caring she thought none save Knives could ever feel for her. Yet 'twas what sat in his hands that fascinated her: a tiny paper crane lay nestled between his strong hands. Yet her eyes saw that it was not the only little bird; another lay in his hair, another four sat atop his shoulders, dozens lay in his lap, others tucked in the folds of his shirt and others simply laying upon the stone near him as though they feared straying too far from their creator. The light sparkled in his eyes and upon his damp cheeks and the tiny paper birds fluttered in the wind and she felt a tear escape her eye, for 'twas the most incredible scene she had ever laid her eyes upon.

"Vash…" she started, choking on a sob and simply moving closer to him before attempting to speak again "what are all these for? Why are you making these tiny little birds?" Her eyes pooled over with crystal tears as she picked one up in her hands, careful not to bend the fragile paper. 

"Why…?" She sniffed, moved by the scene she beheld before her. She felt his fingers lift her chin so that their eyes met "you're like Sadoko, and I want the gods to grant your wish" he smiled at her. She leaned away from him, taken aback by his words, for she knew the tale of Sadoko and the Thousand Paper Cranes; it had been told to her when she was a very young child so that she would know that war affects everyone, and that she had been granted a gift that could hurt people the same way the nuclear bombs had hurt Sadoko. She remembered all to well her tears when she heard the tale's end, and how she had sobbed into Corrin's arms as he, too, allowed shining tears to flow from his emerald-mauve eyes. Yet she remembered that he had smiled at her and told her that she was a good person and nothing would ever happen like that on their new home. She sniffled though her eyes were dry, thinking of her brother and how Knives reminded her of him. Yet his smile…his smile was uncannily similar to that of the plant who now sat before her, smiling kindly as he said "let me see what you wrote to him". She glanced from her hands, clenched till the whites of her knuckles showed "what did you say?" she asked, dumbfounded. Extending his hand out to her Vash continued to smile "I saw you writing it, can I read it?" Rhianne gasped with comprehension, reaching into her pocket and producing the piece of paper still wet with tears, placing it in his hand "I just needed to get my emotions out" she stammered, flushing as he started to read "I know it sounds stupid but…"

"No, it doesn't. It sounds exactly like I thought it would. I don't think it's stupid at all and you're coping with this far better than I thought you would" Rhianne chuckled darkly "from what you can tell" she snorted, grimacing. She felt his hands upon her chin as she turned to him "Rhianne, I can tell. Everyone within a five-mile radius can tell what you're feeling" he smirked at his joke and she attempted to smile, finding though that her lips simply could not force themselves to turn upwards for him. She moved to take back the letter, yet he pulled it away, still smiling warmly at her "I'm going to show you something" he said, laying the piece of paper down on the dusty surface of the rock. Unsure of what to say, Rhianne simply watched as he folded the paper over and over again until, finally, a small paper crane sat in the palm of his hand. She gasped, awed by his ability to create something so fragile and beautiful. She yearned to touch it, yet she feared it might disintegrate beneath her very touch it looked so fragile. Instead she simply watched as Vash stood gathered an armful of small paper cranes in his arms and stood, his shadow falling over her. 

"Pick up the rest" he instructed, and she reached about and gathered the rest of the small paper cranes fluttering about in her slender arms before standing next to him. "This" he said, placing her letter-crane atop the pile in his arms "it the thousandth crane. We'll release them into the wind and pray the gods grant your wish" she nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of his ideals, yet thought it the civil thing to do, and turned her face to the horizon, where Knives' footprints were already being blown away by the wind that whipped about her and she opened her arms.

Off they flew, tiny white birds of paradise against a cerulean sky, drifting on the wind like paper angels. On and on they flew, twisting and dipping in the wind high up in the clear blue sky, and below them, on her little rock, Rhianne felt herself smile.

*Sadoko and The Thousand Paper Cranes is a true story that was published by Putnam books in 1977 (to the best of my knowledge) and is a wonderful book to read!!


	49. Paper Songbird

Disclaimer: Floating upon the winds of my mind like a bird so free is Trigun, but, like that bird, I cannot grasp it and call it my own. 

Chapter Forty-Nine: Paper Songbird

A/N: Dear Moonlit, you'll see….

_I think I broke the wings off a little songbird_

She's never gonna fly to the top of the world right now,

…Top of the world

Dixie Chicks- Top of the World

The sun beat down upon his sweat-drenched back as he trudged heavily through the drifting sand, sifting beneath his feet and threatening to topple him at any second, to become half-buried beneath the sand that smothered and covered all within a matter of moments like the emotions that he struggled with such difficulty and ill-luck to cover and leave to rot within the dark recesses of his mind. He would not cry. He would not succumb to these human emotions like he had done so foolishly before and he would prove both to her and to himself that he could and would be without her. He did not need her smiling face, nor did he need her warm embrace. He had spent over a century without love, and he could do it again, he growled as he trod over the rolling dunes, his face flushed from the heat of anger and remorse that pounded upon him like the rays of the twin suns burning against his back as he walked. 

His hands clenched and unclenched furiously with each step he took, trying to contain his rage and pain with the simple movements and the grinding of his teeth, creating a sickening scraping that echoed in his ears and reverberated throughout his very skull. It seemed that there was naught he could do to subside this anger that had crashed down like an avalanche of white-hot rage upon him. He had never felt pain such as this, never endured such betrayal amongst his ranks since that of the Peacemaker. And he had not felt a pang such as this at his insolence, for he was a mere spider who would have been crushed anywise. Rhianne…she had been one of his kind, one of his kind sent to him like an angel from some far-off planet that was heaven. She had been one of his own, and as such should have been completely loyal to him. He chuckled as he thought this; his own twin had betrayed him, why should he not have expected it of her as well? He had always thought that one cannot trust anyone other than oneself in this world; yet it had been shown to him, that even his own heart would betray him by still loving this woman who had hurt him so. 

His heart felt like stone, heavy and aching in his chest as he clenched his fists at his sides. How he wished he could take a dark pleasure in what he had done to her; leaving her alone and stranded in a world that was so cold and unloving with only herself to blame. He wanted nothing more than to smile at her tears, to laugh at her as she pleaded with him not to go; he wished that he was immune to her sorrow and her pain and the emptiness he had left he with, a twisted and sick token of the affection he had once felt for her. Yet it was not so, and he could not comprehend why. His entire life he had prized his ability to shut himself away from his emotions and not be ruled by them like the spiders that he despised so; whose lives were dominated by their love and their hate and their childish whims and fancies that were all the spawns of their emotions that ruled them like untouchable and unalterable gods and emperors upon thrones in their minds. He had learned long ago that emotions serve only to hinder; to plague and to meddle with his plans, and he had come to understand that it was easier to simply live without emotion than to live with it. Without emotion he could completely rule his life and not be bothered by such inconsequential things like love. Yet he had faltered this one time; he had slipped and had allowed that damned woman to penetrate his defenses and to force him to feel. Emotions he had thought long dead and buried in his heart had resurfaced with a wave of tears. Tears that now feel from his icy eyes for what he had done to her; tears he could not help but shed as he looked up at the twin suns blazing down from high above him. 

The sky, a brilliant cerulean blue, shimmered beneath his veil of tears and the light of the suns glowed like gems and a thousand tiny diamonds flew across the sky of blue velvet. Tiny diamonds, birds made of the most precious of jewels who flew across the noonday sky like glimmering angels on their studded wings. Angels who flew high above him without a care as they dipped and spun on the breeze. The scene moved him so that he reached up and rubbed the tears from his eyes with the palms of his hands, gazing up at the scene before him: hundreds upon hundreds of tiny birds flew above him, snowflakes against a sky of ice. How he yearned to catch one of these tiny birds and solve the mystery of why he had never seen a sight such as this in all his years upon his planet. Extending a hand, he stretched out his hand, fingers aching to feel the feathers beneath them, to caress the down of these angelic animals who had never before graced the skies of his world. He stood beneath the suns and the sky, reaching to the birds who flew so high above him; yearning to break the wings of the little songbird and keep it forever as his tiny angel. As this thought crossed his mind he saw that a feather floated down towards him; drifting and dipping with the wind that tore at it like a wolf at it's kill. It moved and spun in the breeze, and Knives, like a child chasing a balloon across the field of his dreams, scrambled after it, his eyes locked on it as it fell foot after foot, spinning and twirling downwards to him and he leapt up a dune, ignoring the sand that fell inside his clothes and his mouth as he caught the little feather before it could hit the sand, clenching it in his fists tightly should it be torn away form him like a leaf in the chill autumn wind. He smiled at his triumph, opening his hands carefully as he peered inside his cupped palms to discover that 'twas not a feather he had caught; but a small paper bird that had fluttered down from it's brethren in the sky. 

Words scribbled in a flowing cursive caught his eye upon the windblown paper, etched in shaky black pen against the cream paper. His eyes widened as he saw his name, and he sat upon the dune, cross-legged, oblivious to the wind that whipped about him and the birds that flew above him and unfolded the tiny paper bird; a tiny airborne letter sent to him from his heartbroken Rhianne. A moment passed, and tears fell upon the paper, blotting the ink and running it as he moved it from beneath his face as he stood and continued to walk away from her, his heart breaking with every step he took. 

_It was not a mistake, it was not a mistake_, these solemn words he repeated with each step; each ile he put between himself and her. Yet, he wondered as he walked, if it was such a mistake why did it hurt so to do what must be done? He gazed down at the little paper bird in his palms, crumpling it and tossing it to buried in the sand behind him.

__

I think I broke the wings of a little songbird, 

She's never gonna fly to the top of the world...


	50. Phoenix

Disclaimer: Elusive as a mayfly is my ownage of Trigun.

Chapter Fifty: Phoenix

A/N: YES! 50 chapters, thank you everyone!!

_If I traded it all, if I gave it all away for one thing,_

Wouldn't that be something?

If I sorted it out, if I knew all about this one thing,

Wouldn't that be something?

Finger Eleven- One Thing

A/N: I'm SO sorry for the huge gap between updates; I've literally been grounded from the internet for no reason until just today. Gomen nasai!! 

Sparkling diamonds glowed in the lazuline, ultramarine sky; fading from a center of sable, black like ink spreading across a cobalt blue ocean that lay awash with color. Tainted with lavender and cyan and amethyst the color blended into the fuchsia pink and rosy red streaks that spread themselves over the sky like some divine fertile goddess would in some long-forgotten tapestry. Meager maroon clouds floated lazily over the display of colors like shadowed guardians that watched over their celestial garden, lit with light from the aurora that shimmered above the golden horizon where slivers of the twin suns remained, casting their glow over the landscape and elongating the dark shadows of the two plants who walked towards the town that sat upon the edge of a ravine so deep that one knew not what lay at the bottom. The canyon cut through the ground like a serpentine crevice, like dark lighting upon the land, and when the wind howled through it the townspeople shivered for fear that their plant would one day tumble into the crevice and die; and their hopes and lives with it. For the huge machine sat upon the very edge of the ravine, still surrounded on it's eastern side by windblown and aged shrapnel from the fallen Seeds ship, that the inhabitants of the town had been too wary to touch for fear that they would shift their precious plant and cause it to fall into the canyon that haunted them in their dreams with it's eventual promise of swallowing up the plant like a monster from the depths come to devour it's mechanical prey. The bulb of this mechanical wonder shone brilliantly in the dying light, reflecting it's light upon the faces of the two bedraggled plants walking with weary feet and hearts towards the town.

Vash's hair tumbled into his eyes as they came upon the bulb, glinting in the light like an ornament hung so carelessly upon a tree, and he brushed them hastily away with his free hand, the other rolling two stones between his fingers. He had found them one night when he and his companion had stopped to set up camp for the night; two almost-perfectly circular stones amongst a pile of other small pebbles, worn smooth over the centuries Vash could not count. He rolled them between his fingers, one moving over his fingers whilst the other rolled over the mounts of his palm, then causing them to roll into the other's place without almost any effort; for he had been rolling them constantly for the last two days. He gazed back at Rhianne, who walked silently behind him, her eyes downcast and her hands clasping at her mouth, and he could see the small trickle of blood that escaped between her lips, and he turned to her and sighed heavily, reaching out without a word and pulling her finger from between her teeth, which she had dug into her flesh in an attempt to dull the pain she felt inside and not cry. Vash bit his lip to keep from scolding her as he pressed his fingers against her wound, willing for it to heal and hating the blood that stained his fingertips; she had come upon this trick a day into their travels, growing weary of her constant crying she had taken to self-mutilation to deal with her pain. It brought tears to his aquamarine eyes to think of it; how many times he had awoken to find her blood spilled over the sand as she dug into her arms with her nails, or the bites and the bruises she now carried upon her like battle wounds upon her skin. 

He removed his fingers, feeling the freshly grown skin that covered the bruised and broken flesh beneath and shaking his head at her as he grasped her hand and led her behind him like one would a small child. For that's how she seemed; no longer the proud and graceful woman he had come to know and admire, but a broken shell of a woman who had been reduced to a childlike state in her pain and self-loathing. He lay at night listening to her think, her thoughts that rung so loudly in his head that 'twas as though she screamed them in his ear. Yet she was not even aware that she broadcasted her thoughts in such a manner, for when he heard this she had fallen into the restless and nightmarish slumber that she had suffered these past few days of travel. She barely slept, waking in the middle of the night with an intense pain upon her chest and fresh tears pricking behind her closed lids, and when she did she screamed her pain out to him in waves of remorse and self-hatred that she kept within the confines of her mind whilst conscious. Yet when she was awake it was as though she slept, for she was not fully with him. When she walked it was as though she was not fully aware of her feet touching the sandy ground; what little she ate she seemed not to taste nor to care for; when she spoke she did so in a monotonous voice that gave no indication of her emotions or her heart that broke within her chest. Only the tears she cried showed any indication of that; the tears she wept at night when she thought him asleep and when she felt alone with herself. "Rhianne…" he started once again, attempting to put into words the pity and sorrow he felt for her as he held to her hand, watching her cringe as the sand that danced constantly in the wind brushed against the new flesh. As she always did, she looked away, to her right and over the horizon where the rolling dunes that she had watched him walk away over, and fresh tears came to her eyes and she instinctively brought her hand to her mouth, only to have it grasped and pulled firmly away by Vash's forceful hand. "Rhianne, you can't keep doing this to yourself" he stated, jerking her arm forcefully upwards and grasping her chin with his index and thumb fingers "it's over. You have to accept that"

For so long it seemed she stared up at him with her teary eyes that were perfect mirrors of his; shimmering with tears that she only shed when he wasn't looking and boring into his eyes as though she could see his very soul within them. They merely stared at one another, Rhianne's lips firmly shut and quivering with her sorrow, and Vash's lips a thin line of determination, willing her to succumb to his words and to dry her eyes and continue on with her life, for he knew that she did not deserve this strife and this pain. He felt compassion towards her and her sorrow and despair, yet it angered him that she would not even think of life without Knives. That her heart was so devoted to him that she could not fathom life without him, which had to become a reality for her if she were ever to move on. He could see it in her eyes, those lifeless eyes that gazed back up at him that were not those of the woman he had met, but those of a broken woman whose pupils swam behind a veil of unshed tears. She gazed at him, her eyes unwavering as they bored up into his, and he saw her lower lip begin to quiver and again she attempted to pull her finger to her mouth.

"Damn it Rhianne!" Vash snapped, pushing her hand from her mouth in frustration "stop doing this to yourself! You can't just sit here and mourn over him forever, you have to get up and live your life!" He looked into her eyes, narrowed with anger and brimming with tears as she pulled away from him, jerking her hand from his and slapping him across the face, leaving a large red mark as red as blood against the pallor of his skin "there is no life without Knives!" she screamed at him, clutching her chest and backing away from him, rage and pain tainting her voice "I thought I would be alright but I'm not! I want to hate him so much! I want to hate him so much that it makes me mad that I can't; I just can't!" Tears began to flow down her face and she collapsed to her knees, weeping into her palms as Vash stood above her, watching as she cried, unable to speak through the pity that closed his throat and made it difficult to breathe. Kneeling beside her, he placed a hand on her shoulder that pulsed and shook beneath the weight of her sobs "Rhianne" he started, drawing a deep breath "I know this is difficult. I know this is the most difficult thing you've ever been through. I've been where you are and I know what you're going through" There was a long pause before she spoke "do you?" a small voice he barely recognized as hers came from beneath her hands "do you really, Vash?" It sounded dark, menacing and mocking him and a low chuckle escaped her lips "you think you know me, yet you have no idea. You don't know the pain and suffering I've endured, the self-loathing and hatred I've felt for so damnably long" she removed her head from her hands, angry eyes glaring up at him full of rage and contempt "you don't know what it's like to lose the two people who ever really cared about you." 

She watched as his eyes narrowed, growing dark and cold and so like Knives' as he glared at her though the cascade of blonde locks that tumbled forth from the crown of his spiked scalp "don't you dare say that" he stated, his tone like ice "you don't know what I've been through, either, so don't act as though your pain is any different. I've suffered as much as you, perhaps more, and you cannot say to me that you are alone in your pain because you haven't even scraped at the surface!" He glared at her for a moment, watching her chew over his words as a fierce light began to shine from within her eyes, and suddenly the impact of her open palm against his cheek erupted in him as she slapped him, his head snapping back as she pulled back and stood, staring angrily at him; eyes glowing beneath her fluttering lashes as tears fell from between them.

"Fuck you Vash" She stated, turning her back to him, pulling her hair free of it's restraints and allowing it to blow in the wind; chestnut silk, tainted with dark stains of blood that blew in the wind. She took a step, hesitating as her left heel pulled up from the sand, and turned back to him, her torso swiveling back to that she could face him, her shoulder pulled up like a pinup model from some long-lost era. Her eyes sparkled with tears in the setting sun, which cast an orange glow over the curves of her face; the hollow of her cheeks and the curve of her throat, her breasts and her stomach whose hollowness seemed less healthy with each passing day, her hips that jutted out from her torso with sickly sharpness, and her legs that became thinner each morning, it seemed. She was skeletal, losing her fragile beauty the same way a rose loses it's own; withering slowly away before his eyes. Vaguely he heard himself utter her name as she turned away once more, silhouetted like an angel by the brilliant light of the setting suns; with a fiery halo and burning wings. 

He closed his eyes against the light, his lids erupting in a blazing orange as the light shone through his lids. Yet he could not look at her, this icon of mental decay and deterioration who still blazed with a blinding Inner Light that radiated from every pore on her pale skin. He could not open his eyes and gaze into those that so mirrored his, for within them he could see the torment that he knew lay within his own. He could not come to grips with this horrid pain of reality like this; no, he could not succumb to the reality of her pain and the idea that it might be more than his. Suffering and disease and decay and the slow drift into madness had been his companions for so many years that it nearly pained him to see that they had found a new companion; a new carrier of their plague which seemed to spread with every step taken. Their markings were in her eyes, invisible and yet utterly and undeniably therein, for one glance into her pupils, those pools of utter ebony despair, spoke to him of their dark touch upon her soul. He could not bear to see this, and therefore closed his eyes against the truth and the fiery angel that took her first step away from him; her hands in fists at her sides and the tears that cascaded down her cheeks being snatched from her flushed skin by a violent and uncaring wind who tossed them about like shimmering crystals caught in a tornado of sand and light. He could not bear to see the reality that was so cruelly being rubbed in his face; stinging him like rough sandpaper against his skin. He did not want another to bear the burden of being alone and abandoned; he wanted to be the only one to feel that weight upon his shoulders, but she deserved naught of it. He deserved to be alone and to be unwanted and unloved, and he could not bear to watch her deteriorate before his eyes, for her spirit to evaporate slowly like water beneath a cruel sun. 

And so he did not; he closed his eyes against the wind and the sun and the sound of her sobs as her footfalls echoed in the wind as she slowly left him, a tearing mass upon the sand as the fiery angel, his phoenix, took flight and left him to himself, hoping that she would truly prove to be a phoenix and rise from the ashes of her despair.


	51. Decrepit

Disclaimer: It's not mine; I'm too lazy to protest

Chapter Fifty-One: Decrepit

A/N: I know it's been a while; it's a long story…

Your body gives but then holds back

The sun is bright the sky is black

Can only be another sign

I cannot keep what isn't mine

Britney Spears- Shadow

The evening suns settled upon the outcropping of rocks that faced the west. Upon these rocks she sat, her back to the way she came, her eyes upon the brilliant orbs that sunk beneath the rolling dunes. Her face was aglow in the golden sunlight, she closed her eyes against the light and the ache from her tears. How many days had she sat here, without food, without water, only sitting and waiting for something that, perhaps, was never to come, she could not count. Yet she could feel it in her bones, she could feel it in her heart that this would be the place where she would be at peace. The place that she could find to draw this pain from her; this pain which consumed her like a ravenous beast, with no care for her bleeding heart nor her decaying mind. A wisp of her hair fell across her face, tumbled into her eyes which had lost all their light and shimmer. It brushed against her reddened nose and caught upon her cracked and dry lips. She didn't move to brush it away, only thrilling at the feeling of the dead skin upon her lips being pulled by her limp hair; she felt nothing inside, she marveled, and now was becoming a ghost to her outer senses, like a veil drawn over her that shielded her from the true world about her. Her hands trembled, though they were not cold, and clutched at one another with knuckles as white as fresh fallen snow. Through her cracked lips she whispered his name, the name that was like a curse upon her; the name that had sucked the life out of her and left her a shell of a woman. 

Half of her hoped that Vash would come upon her. That he would take her into his arms and let her cry. But she knew in her heart that he would not; even if he found her, even if he had ventured out into the desert, gone terribly off-course and sought her out upon this pile of rocks, he would not allow her to cry. He would tell her that it hurt, but that she must be strong and move on. And she, though knowing this harsh truth, would find herself enraged and hating him, and would leave again. Or so she would have liked to think; she knew she could not leave these rocks, for something was to come about here, she sensed. This place, there was something about it that touched upon her heart and refused to relinquish it's vice-like grip on her. This place made her feel at peace; made her forget about the pain and the hurt. Here she was…empty. Yes, she thought, perhaps that was it; here she could pour out the acrid contents of her soul and be rid of it, once and for all. 

In a quick and angry motion she threw her arms up and slammed them back down upon the stone, grimacing at the pain that went shooting through her scratched and bloody arms. She sobbed, half-choking on the air that whistled past her dry lips. She did not want this; she did not want this pain to follow her about like a shadow, only growing longer as time marched slowly on. She leaned forward, her weak arms almost unable to support her ever-slimming form, and pushed her head over the edge of the rock, opening her mouth and vomiting down into the putrid sand below. She fell back, the stone hard and rough against her bare skin, for she had shed her vile clothes days ago; they were now down there with her vomit, rotting in the sand along with her mind. She coughed, feeling bile rise up in her throat again, and lurched herself upwards and nearly falling over the rock as she emptied her soul out over the rocks. When she felt as though nothing was left she opened her eyes, gazing down at the filth far below her. She felt her mouth begin to fill with saliva, felt her throat begin to retch, and threw herself backwards upon the rock before she was sick again, sputtering and coughing and ignoring the stench that came from within her own mouth. She reeked of it; she reeked of pain and death and despair. And now even her own body had begun to destroy itself; she coughed and wondered what it was exactly that she left inside of her to throw up as she squirmed away from the edge of the rock and the rancid stench emitting from it. Betimes she did not mind these fits, for she felt as though her body was forcing out what did not belong therein. Yet she wondered if she was rejecting happiness and pouring it down upon the sand, and weather it was the sadness of her soul that was purging the light and leaving only the dark.

Pulling her head up from the rock, she watched the slim tops of the suns disappear over the horizon and shivered, knowing that night would soon be upon her. Though it mattered little now, she barely felt anything save the dull throbbing pain that thrummed through her with each beat of her lonely heart. She lay on her back, watching as the final streaks of light were sucked from the sky like smoke in the wind, leaving behind the ebony blackness of the night sky; and she reveled in the similarities twixt the sky and her soul, for she too felt as though all the colors and pigments of her life had been drained away like water down a drain, leaving behind only the dark shades that consumed any spark of color that emerged, any light of hope that appeared in the darkness was quashed and smothered by the darkness. 

She closed her eyes against the sky, forcing out another breath. Betimes she wondered if she willed hard enough, that her heart could stop beating. Perhaps then, in death, she could be at peace. Yet she could not allow him to gain that victory, the ultimate prize, from her. She would not give him her soul, only her love, which he had denied. A wretched sob crept past her lips and echoed into the night. How many more night would it be before she wasted away, she wondered. How many more days of pain and nights alone would she be forced to endure before she could finally die? She did not want Knives to win over her, but she had lost her will to carry on. If she died, it would be naturally, and not by her own hand; she could leave this damned little world with that much dignity, she thought bitterly. Turing and spitting out vile-tasting saliva, she wondered what Knives would think if he heard of her death. Would he be sad, she wondered? Would he grieve for her? Or would he carry on as he always had; without a heart and without a conscience and without love? A tear rolled down her ashen cheek as she guessed the answer to her question. 

Vash. She thought of him often; touching upon his memory that, despite his indiscretions, remained sweet and pure, a lone flower in the dying meadows of her mind. She owed him her very life, and though she sought to take it, she appreciated all that he had done for her; all the effort he had made on her part. And what had she done, she snapped at herself, she had left him to wander the deserts alone, like he had for so long. She, like Knives, had left someone she cared deeply for, and she despised herself for it. 

Yet she could not help but remember the past. The woman she had been, the woman she so desperately wished again to become. She had smiled and laughed, she had danced and talked and loved. Not only Knives, not only Corrin, but she had loved life. Never in all her years until this moment had she considered suicide, and the thought tore through her heart and her mind like a wolf upon a helpless sheep. She had made a promise…a promise to Corrin that she would never do such a thing. Not after what happened to Amélie, his first love. They quarreled incessantly and, eventually, he had tired of it and had left her to her own devices, mourning the love that he had lost. Evidently she mourned far more than he, and hung herself from the tree under which they had shared their first kiss. Corrin had been in shambles, his spirit and will broken, left to mourn her death that, in his eyes, was undeniably his doing. Now, here on the rock, she remembered all too well his sobbing form, begging her not to leave him like Amélie had; not to cause him this pain. And she had sworn, she had sworn not only upon her own life but upon that of their mother. And she would not break her vow to the only person who had not betrayed her love, this she swore to herself as she lay beneath the stars.

Yet she could feel herself dying from the inside, her heart that beat defiantly on, yet grew weaker with each passing night. Eventually it would stop, she smiled to herself; she could feel it's pain, the ache that she could no longer differentiate between broken heartedness and pain due to hunger. She could feel her body eating itself, devouring its own fat and muscle to keep that defiant heart beating. Her body felt exhausted, weak and brittle with only one little failing muscle to keep it going. She gazed up at the stars, the gold dust that the Gods scattered across the black velvet sky, and allowed her heavy lids to fall over her sore and bloodshot eyes that she felt roll back almost into her skull. She exhaled deeply, feeling her body begin to collapse, and through the thick walls of darkness she thought she heard the scuffle of pebbles moving, yet she paid it no heed, she was finally going to die. She could be rid of everything, the pain and the anguish, and she could be at peace. She could feel herself slipping, her heart slowing and her breath growing more shallow. The darkness threatened to engulf her, and she welcomed it's icy embrace, for it offered only peace and placidness and that which for which she so yearned: finality. 

She felt as though she was standing in the tide of darkness, the waves washing over her, she waited with bated breath and heightened anticipation as the tide grew higher until it washed over her head and she felt an incredible sense of weightlessness overcome her. She was drifting up, up to the surface of the dark ocean that had been her life. She smiled, she was finally going to die. She could almost see it, the light that played upon the splashing waves of the surface, the dancing light that beckoned to her. And she wished to go to it; yearned for it more than she had yearned for anything, and she reached out and touched the warmth of the air above the water, the tip of her finger immediately becoming warm and whole and awash with radiating light. How she longed to be a part of it, and opened her eyes and kicked her legs, eager to feel this light upon her face. 

Then she felt the most terrible pain in her chest.

Doubled over, she pulled her hand from the surface of the water and curled into a ball as the force of the blow pushed her father away from the blessed light. She reached out with one arm to the dancing light upon the water, yet was hit again by the blow to her chest. It felt as though someone was swinging a sledgehammer against her, and she felt weighed down by it's mass, as she was pushed deeper into the dark of the water. She could barely move as the blows came again and again, curled into a fetal position as she sank lower and lower, her eyes focused only on the light that swam before her, wishing only to become engulfed in it. But her eyes were forced shut surface as another blow erupted upon her cheek, snapping her head to the side as her mouth opened in a gasp of surprise. As her mouth opened, water poured forth into it, tasting like bile and wretchedness and causing her eyes to widen in surprise. 

Yet what came to surprise her was the pair of slate gray eyes staring back at her.


End file.
